


Players

by Phantocat



Series: Players/Игроки [2]
Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen, Welcome to Sanditon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27670909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantocat/pseuds/Phantocat
Summary: This is a short story with several chapters written in an attempt to come up with a way to solve the problem of Sidney Parker.After a heartwarming goodbye to Charlotte on the cliff, Sidney returns to London determined to make things right and get Charlotte back. He is looking for a way to cover Tom's debts at least partially, without resorting to marrying Mrs. Campion. It will not be possible to find 80,000 pounds in a short period of time in an honest way, but he cannot overstep his principles either. Therefore, the only way to get money and stay honest with yourself is... to win. And Sidney goes to the gambling house.This story is written in Russian and translated into English with a slight delay. I am not a native speaker and may make mistakes in sentence constructions. Please forgive me for this)
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood & Sidney Parker, Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker
Series: Players/Игроки [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018425
Comments: 126
Kudos: 106





	1. The Stranger

The candlelight flickered lazily on the edges of the glass. I couldn't drink any more. He turned the crystal by its stem, without lifting it from the table, and clicked his fingernail on the faceted surface to produce a sound. Boring!

At 34, the Russian hussar, hereditary nobleman, Baron Alexander Bering saw everything in this life. He had a significant rank in the life guards hussar regiment, was wounded at Austerlitz and received the order for participation in the battle of Borodino in 1812.

He passionately loved, was loved and knew the bitterness of loss when his young bride died of inflammation in gray and rainy St. Petersburg 2 months before his triumphant return at home.

The loss destroyed all his hopes and aspirations, plunging him to the bottom of despair. He drank, fought, kicked up a row and was demoted. And yet, given his track record and personal tragedy, the high command offered to transfer to the borders of the Empire-to the Caucasus. There was nothing to lose. His trusty horse was still with him, and it didn't matter where he was or from whom he received his orders. He was looking for death and peace. And obediently left for the Caucasus.

For 5 long years, Bering guarded the borders on his black horse, drank, played cards, learned the bloody customs of the highlanders and did not part with a saber, hoping in his heart to one day run into someone's dagger or bullet. But time passed, and death did not come. He started deliberately taking risks and tried to provoke conflicts. He was shot three times in a duel, but was never hit. And each new attempt made him feel a mystical ecstasy and seek a new opportunity to leave the mortal world, which made him even more fearless and desperate.

The end of the five-year term was marked by the return of the former rank and honors, and the newly appointed captain was granted a leave of absence for 3 months for treatment, restoration of health and return to St. Petersburg. And on August 12, Alexander Bering left for abroad.

He has already visited Baden-Baden and Karlovy vary, staying at each point for at least 2 weeks, turned the head of several local and visiting ladies, and left for London, cherishing the image of a scoundrel and heartbreaker, and in his heart regretting that true love in his life no longer has a place. And now Behring was on his way to Bath for entertainment and treatment, but was forced to extend his stay in London because of an unfortunate misunderstanding with Luggage that had accidentally been forgotten to be loaded on the ship. It was the second week, and he was still wandering around the city in a full-dress bright red hussar uniform, trimmed with black at the collar and with rows of gold silk cords and gilded buttons. A person who is hard to miss…

What should an officer do on vacation abroad? Of course, drink, waste money, play cards and look for worthy opponents. And now he was sprawled out on the sofa of one of London's fashionable establishments, Smoking, drinking, and bored. He had already won 1200 pounds today and the gaming tables located in the center no longer attracted him. Sitting down at a table with a player who desperately wants to win was not interesting and predictable. The one who needed the money would count the cards responsibly, be careful, and invariably fail. Bering read the emotions and cards of such a person instantly. And he wanted a different opponent, ready to put everything on the line, ready to take risks and not think about winning, but to act in a moment of emotional impulse and under the influence of feelings. He wanted a LIVE opponent. But there were no such people in the hall…

The Baron was just grabbing his gloves and reaching for his shako when HE came through the curtain... a Black man!

A tall, slim figure in a black frock coat held a walking stick and a top hat. The man's dignified bearing gave him away as an aristocrat or a person who moved in high circles. He scanned the room for acquaintances, glanced briefly at the red spot, and let out a resigned sigh. For a moment, he considered whether to leave or stay. In the three steps that the visitor took toward the empty table, Bering rated him as a strong-willed and determined man. This person would definitely be a suitable opponent.

Meanwhile, the man sank into a chair, got rid of his cane and hat, and ordered a bottle. For the next half hour, the apparition drained his glass thoughtfully, glancing uneasily at his watch. It seemed that he was conducting an internal dialogue with himself – sometimes he was convincing himself of something, then he shook his head in displeasure and lowered his head helplessly into his hands. "Fighting with yourself," Bering concluded, becoming more and more convinced of the right choice.

Beckoning to the waiter with a casual gesture, Bering handed him a crisp bill and two cards. The waiter dutifully listened to the visitor, and only once as they look through two tables, and then bowed and went out.

\-----

Sidney Parker's life has flowed in the wrong direction since the painful parting on the cliff near Sanditon. He fought the urge to throw off the responsibility for Tom's stupidity, break off the engagement on any pretext, and rush off to Charlotte's native village to meet and explain to her father. But his sense of duty and loyalty to his word did not allow him to do this. There must be other ways. And he will find them.

Sidney was in dire need of friendly support and sensible advice, but unfortunately his friend Lord Babbington had spent the last month abroad. A happy honeymoon... And while Sidney was genuinely happy for his friend, part of him felt a pang of unease at the thought that he, too, might be happily married by now. With Charlotte. If it hadn't been for that unfortunate fire…

Ironically, the heat of the fire pushed him into the arms of a chilly woman. Eliza was like that. Everything in her life was subject to plans and routines, where he was assigned the role of diligent conversationalist somewhere between three and five on Thursday afternoons. He endured these meetings with fortitude, but dreaded the moment when Eliza would fully enter his life. And would he have a life at all? Only calculation and mechanical actions - like a gear in a precise, well-functioning mechanism.

No, you must understand, she was a worthy, respectable woman, refined and elegant, such that any man would have considered her an enviable match if she had paid attention to him. Any man except himself.

To think that even 3 months ago, he would have been quite happy if Eliza had allowed him to be near her. But not now, when his heart has learned true affection, based on mutual respect, trust, admiration for actions, manners and warm brown eyes.

Charlotte burst into his life like a hurricane and knocked him down. And even if at the beginning he tried to resist the elements, its inner strength and perseverance carried him out of the desert to a picturesque land, overshadowed by tenderness, love, awe, respect and hope. To lose Charlotte was to lose life itself. This means that he must do EVERYTHING possible to get Charlotte back as soon as possible.

As a true businessman, Sidney knew to solve problems as they came. He divided the goal into tasks and set out to strictly follow them. And the first point was to provide other funding for the restoration of Sanditon and the repayment of Tom's debts.

Where can he get 80,000 if banks consider investments illiquid? Or, more precisely, how to pay off the 80,000 loan when the banks find out about the termination of the engagement with Mrs. Campion, who in fact became the guarantor of the transaction in the account of future profits, significantly increasing the credit rating of the Parker family? Sidney vowed not to touch Mrs. Campion's living money until the wedding day, but inwardly hoped that day would never come. But after the cancellation of the engagement, there will always be a stage of reassessment of risks and banks will demand the loan back. Ahead of time and with interest. Capital was needed.

His honest enterprise brought in 7-10 thousand pounds a year, but these funds were always in circulation. If you successfully conduct some operations with securities, then in 2-3 months you could earn an additional 1-2 thousand pounds. But this is a drop in the ocean.

Expanding trade by entering into contracts with other suppliers in the West Indies will increase trade turnover and bring annual revenue to 12-15 thousand. But at what cost? Ever since he had checked his plans against the moral compass of Charlotte's honest eyes, he had known that he would not allow contracts in any way connected with slavery. This means that this option is not suitable.

What else? Sell the property? Even if he sold the house in London with Tom's consent, he would not be able to get more than 8,000 pounds out of the whole trip and the horses. Where can they get the rest?

To win. In parts. It seemed a strange idea, given the unpredictable outcome, but it might work. He was not a gambler and could always stop if he realized that the amount of debt was close to 1,000 pounds - this is the limit he set for himself to assess the viability of the idea when he first entered the gaming hall 2 weeks ago. Since then, it has had ups and downs, but the total for today was plus 6,000 pounds, which means the house in Bedford place was safe. For now.

After paying off part of the loan at the Bank that afternoon, he returned home to find a note from Babbington announcing his return and inviting to visit him the next day at any convenient time. Very useful! The return of a friend was inspiring and hopeful.

He couldn't wait until morning, so he decided to try his luck at one of the places Babbington often visited as a bachelor. Gentlemen's club. Without the ladies. With a good wine list. What if Lord Babbington decides to go there today?

It was after nine o'clock when he entered the building. The stuffy, smoke-filled room greeted him with activity at the gaming tables and a tortured violin in the corner. As he looked around the room, he noticed a few regulars, but there were no friends in sight. After pausing on the doorstep for a moment to assess the likelihood of Babbington's arrival that evening, Sidney decided to stay. He chose a table away from the busy crowd, sat down, ordered a bottle, and decided to pass the time in thought while waiting for his friend.

The wine relaxed him a little and turned his thoughts in a different direction. What if we ... take Charlotte to Scotland and solve this problem? Eliza will calm down sooner or later and will definitely not raise a scandal. He had not touched her money and would not touch it, and he would not allow any other kind of commitment until the day of the wedding.

Or maybe take Charlotte to Antigua? She'll like it there. Sea, sun, warm air, tropical beach…

No, he must do the right thing and ensure that Charlotte and her family follow all the stages prescribed by society – meeting her parents, courtship, formal engagement, announcement in Church, and finally an open wedding. She needed it. And he wanted to.

But how strange it is to mentally plan a wedding while being connected to another woman! These thoughts weighed down and increased the headache from the stuffiness and noise. He drained his glass in one gulp and glanced nervously at his watch. And apparently it won't be – Sidney underestimated the influence of his wife on her husband's evening plans. As to be expected. What does he know about married life?

"When did Sidney Parker turn into a lone drunk?» he asked himself as he poured the last glass and prepared to go home. Until now, drinking had been a way for him to pass the time in friendly company and become a little more outspoken, dropping the mask and coming face-to-face with his friends. But a month of almost complete isolation did the trick. Although he saw a lot of Crowe, it turned out that Babbington had been the cement holding the three friends together all along, and without him, Sidney and Francis Crowe were weak conversationalists and usually sullenly silent when they lost at cards.

He was about to pay and get up when an uncorked bottle of champagne was placed on his desk. Sidney looked puzzled at the waiter and was about to say that he got the wrong table as him on the tablecloth put a business card and a playing card – Jack of clubs. An invitation to friendship.

"Mr. Parker, captain Baring invites you to join him in a game of cards," the waiter said, pointing to the hussar, then bowed and left.

Sidney turned the card over in his hands and glanced at the hussar. He gave the impression of an honest man. Although the stranger's choice of drinks was clearly strange, Sidney was in dire need of companionship. He got up, picked up the bottle, and started toward the hussar.

"Sidney Parker at your service," he said, holding out his hand.


	2. Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney sits down at a table with a mysterious stranger, not knowing what lies ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention. I understand that the story still sounds a little dark, but it is necessary for the insight of our hero.

The officer slouched in his chair and held out his hand without getting up:

"Captain Alexander Bering, a Russian officer, is on leave in London. Nice to meet you, Mr. Parker " and he motioned for me to sit down. Then, with a graceful flick of the fingers of his left hand, he signaled the waiter to bring two glasses.

"I apologize for the impertinence, Mr. Parker, for disturbing you in such a strange way, but it seemed to me that you and I were sharing the same thoughts and desires."

"Maybe," Sidney said shortly, and set the bottle on the table. As he sat down, he looked at the other man warily.

The hussar's piercing blue eyes were clear and not at all drunk. His dark, thick, almost black hair, parted in the middle, fell in front of his eyes, giving him away as a man who clearly did not follow the local fashion. His neat beard was already a little gray, but his eyes were still young and bold. In General, this combination of light eyes and dark appearance gave him some kind of breed, and his demeanor said that he was not used to hearing "No". The contrast between his features against the background of the scarlet suit became especially noticeable up close. And the abundance of decorations of the military uniform flowed smoothly to the hands, ending with a rather massive ring with an emerald. Nothing too much, but almost on the edge.

"I suggest we drink to the introduction and then move on to the gaming tables."

The champagne was quickly poured, and the partners drained their glasses to the bottom. The Baron almost immediately refilled the glasses in a hurry, and the frothy liquid spilled over the edge. He swore, took out a handkerchief, and tossed it carelessly into the puddle. Surprised, Sidney watched the light moisture creep across the embroidered handkerchief as the second glass slid insistently across the tablecloth in his direction.

The Russian was downing his second glass when Sidney touched his drink. A faint smile flickered across his lips, and the thought of what a hard morning it must be for an officer swirled in his mind. Champagne is an insidious drink.

"I can see that something is weighing you down. And judging by your neat appearance, burning eyes and sad face-this is a woman. Am I right?" Bering shot him a sharp look.

"Yes, there's a woman involved," Sidney said wearily. I didn't want to talk about it at the same time. And his strange interlocutor with a slight accent, it seems, will not judge and may even understand. Yes but no one can help in his situation…

"Always a woman… A man whose heart is not touched by a woman is only half a man... Well, let's drink to love!" He clinked his glass against Sidney's and took a hasty drink.

"I don't… I'm not used to this flow of champagne and usually prefer other drinks. But for the sake of love, I will definitely drink a glass to the bottom."

There was a mischievous twinkle in the hussar's eyes and a wry smile on his lips as he briefly described his love of sparkling wines:

"I served in the Caucasus for 5 years, and all that surrounded me was mountains, air, wine and mineral water from local mountain springs. Foreign wines and spirits were not imported to the unit. And the local wine was not allowed to dull the mental pain. And my friends and I once mixed wine with water from a bubbling spring. The effect stunned us. Since then, if you need to get drunk quickly, I drink sparkling wine." Bering drained another glass.

"Come on, share it. I'm a traveling companion. I'll leave, and no one will ever know about your secret. I don't insist, but believe me, it will make you feel better."

"Maybe you're right. I really need to talk, but there are things I can't tell my friends or family about. And a story can't help matters here…"

"I'm a military man, and strategy is my business. But I understand your doubts… Let's say you tell me your story if you lose. And I'll have mine if I lose. It's so banal to play for money. It is much more interesting to play for the soul." He raised his eyebrows ironically, then took a deep drag on his cigarette. "Please go to the game table!"

When the partners sat down at the green baize table and opened new decks of cards, they agreed to play STOs and let fate decide whether to tell Sidney their story or not.

Less than 3 minutes later, the card drawn from the deck by Bering coincided with ponter's card, and the captain leaned back in his chair with a grin, saying briefly: "I'm waiting."

"It will be easier for me to talk if I am distracted by maps. Play baccarat? This time it's for money, " Sidney smiled sheepishly.

When the decks of cards had been carefully shuffled and each had placed bets with chalk on the cloth, the opponents moved on to the game and Sidney dealt two cards each.

"Imagine that in your youth you fell in love with a woman of unearthly beauty and dreamed of making her your wife. The engagement was quick and happy. Until one day I received a letter about the canselation of the engagement. The reason was simple – a more profitable match with a man two times older than her and 10 times richer. I was 18 years old and it seemed that my life was over. I won't describe the carousals and gambling I plunged into, wishing I could forget her, but whatever it was, my older brother and his wife lifted me from the bottom of despair and sent me abroad. Antigua has reshaped my worldview and understanding of life. I realized that my suffering was nothing compared to what was happening to the slaves there. But my heart was broken forever. In addition, the women who hung around the plantations weren't exactly models of virtue either. My heart was hard, and I was sure that I would never love again."

As he told it, Sidney almost felt like he was in Antigua, the sand under his bare feet, the warm sea breeze, the scents of tropical flowers and fruits – all in contrast to his pathetic, drunk and defiled figure. I wanted to wash off the smell of corrupt women. And smoke. Instead, he took a drink of champagne and continued.

"I returned to London three years ago. The connections I made in Antigua allowed me to start my own export business. The establishment of the company, which now provides me well, took all my time and effort. And I was glad of it. Work allowed me not to think. And don't dream…

"But ..." said Alexander, "your story should have a' But 'Next," and he leaned across the table in Sidney's direction with interest.

"But… All right. At that time, my brother was inspired by the idea of turning a fishing village into a secular seaside resort. His enthusiasm was infectious. I helped find some investors and partially invested in the construction of apartments myself. By the spring of this year, the city really was unrecognizable and it was time to attract visitors.

The first ball was a big event, and my friends and I went to Sanditon to support Tom. There I met a beautiful girl, pure as love itself, kind, generous, surprisingly strong. After a few days, I found myself looking in her direction and trying to avoid her. This was more difficult because she was a guest in my brother's family, which meant we saw each other almost every day. And not only in the walls of the house, but also... in the most unexpected places. And in the evenings I was very happy that I was staying in a hotel and I didn't have to suffer the agony of falling asleep under the same roof with her.

I broke down in front of her, and she just stared at me with her clear eyes and didn't seem to understand what was wrong with me. I went to London, but my brother's business brought me back to Sanditon again and again. Toward her…

Anyway, one day we were together in London. The London ball, where we went to tell the nobles about the Sanditon regatta, changed everything in my life! I finally saw the real Charlotte, and I realized that there was no pretense in her. How uncomfortable she was among the Beau Monde, and how she held on with all her might just to make my brother happy… And for the first time, I realized that I wanted to protect her from the whole world as a true treasure!

Unfortunately, I also met my first love at that ball. Eliza. A widow looking at me invitingly across the room. And I fell under her spell like Sirens. She was gorgeous, beautiful, and worthy of her circle. But it wasn't until later that I realized that she hadn't taken off her mask after the masquerade was over.

Charlotte and Tom went to Sanditon, and I stayed in London with Eliza. We resumed our social acquaintance. Next to Eliza, I was once again the humiliated boy who sailed in agony to Antigua with no intention of returning. She was friendly, sweet, but callous and empty. It was as if her soul had been taken out of her. And I wondered what had become of her over the years. But part of me already knew that she was always like this.

I was drawn back to Sanditon, to Charlotte, even though I knew it was selfish of me. My soul yearned for truth, recognition, and real feelings. And I got there sooner than expected. But my peace did not last long – Eliza followed me. And instead of the extra days with Charlotte before the regatta, I basically tormented her over and over again, meeting her with Mrs. Campion on my arm.

I felt guilty when I looked at her. I felt guilty when I listened to Tom make plans for my marriage to Mrs. Campion. And I can only imagine how many times a day he could repeat it in the house, in front of Charlotte. I wondered what Charlotte thought of me. And does he think?

On the day of the regatta, during a walk, I saw her go to the river in the company of a young man, a local builder, and a feeling of jealousy seized me completely. My feet led me to her. I didn't talk about anything, but I wanted to say too much…

At some point, we found ourselves in a boat – I asked her to help balance the boat. She was doubtful, but she got into the boat with me. Oh, God, I felt like a tempter. He hungrily studied her face, trying to find answers to his questions. We were so close! My heart was pounding out of my chest. And all I wanted was to keep this moment between us forever. But he was interrupted by a hail from the shore. Mrs. Campion. I wanted to throw myself in the river.

And then the day brought nothing but disappointment… At first Mrs. Campion tried to make fun of the innocent girl in the eyes of the Beau Monde, and when I went to apologize, she ran away from me in tears. It wasn't until late at night, when I was finally alone, that I realized I had to see her and explain myself. What followed was a blur. I almost confessed my love to her, and my night was full of doubt and desire. I knew I was in love, but I wasn't sure it was mutual.

Only the next day gave me relief. We ran into each other again in the city – we were drawn to each other like magnets. Having met her gaze on the street from afar, I dared to invite her for a walk that day.

We talked to her on the cliff and it was the most gentle and proper kiss of my life. I knew that I would propose to her at the ball that night.

And so it happened. Almost… I was just about to ask when there was a commotion in the ballroom below and I was attracted to calm the rowdy. After taking the intruder outside, I waited impatiently for him to leave, so that I could return to Charlotte and make a proper offer. But fate decreed otherwise. We didn't meet again that night at the ball…

Due to an accident, a fire started in the newly built apartment building. All night we put it out with all the forces of the city. And in the morning it turned out that the situation could only be worse – my brother's case was not insured. A huge debt to investors and a complete lack of their own capital for recovery. And to save Tom from a debtors ' prison, I went to London to get loans.

I was only given a week to solve the problem, and the debt was so large... Well, the banks refused me, of course. 

During my week in London, Eliza sent for me twice to demand my presence. And both times she promised to invest in exchange... for marriage. The first time I refused, I knocked on banks, big and small, with great enthusiasm. And in the second... I had no choice. I couldn't afford to send Tom to debtor's prison and jeopardize the future of His children, so I had to make a deal with Eliza. But the price in this deal was my soul. I truly sold my soul to the devil. And Charlotte, my sweet, sweet, dearly loved Charlotte, went home with a broken heart. 

I only saw her for a moment when I stopped the carriage taking her home. We spoke the words we could in our desperate situation, but our eyes told a different story. And as I watched her carriage leave, I decided that I would do everything I could to get her back! I'm almost dead without it. And just thinking about her gives me hope. But what can be done?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his temples. Then, as if waking up, he realized that they were no longer playing cards. 

"Well, the situation is not simple. If you go to the right, you'll lose your horse; if you go to the left, you'll lay your head down yourself, " the hussar grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"What?" Sidney asked uncertainly, not sure what kind of horses he was talking about. 

"This is a typical choice of a hero from Russian fairy tales," Bering explained – " but everything usually ends well – at the end of the path, the main character gains wealth, power, respect and a beloved girl. And keeps the horse safe and sound. In this situation, the choice is either to keep the girl, but lose her brother, or choose a brother, but say goodbye to love. Not fair anyway."

"There's also Eliza," Sidney said, getting rid of another card.

"Well, in Russian fairy tales, villains usually die from their own weapons. So there's no need to worry about her."

"By Jove, captain, you're pretty frank," Sidney said, looking down at his cards.

"I have nothing to hide," he said, spreading his hands to show his open palms. 

Sidney clenched his jaw, glaring at the other man. 

"Question price?" Alexander asked casually, taking a drag on his pipe.

"80,000 pounds," Sidney said dryly, and shifted his focus to the dying candle. The candle went out, sending a stream of smoke into the air. 

The Baron sucked the smoke through his teeth and raised his eyes thoughtfully to the ceiling, as if counting. 

"500,000 rubles, if I calculated the exchange rate correctly? Well, I think I can solve your problem."

"Really?" Sidney's eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"True," the Russian replied, finishing his glass, " But you will have to earn it and prove yourself worthy." 

Sidney stared at the other man, trying to gauge his intentions. There was something about this man that inspired confidence, but it might just be acting. He is a military man, a resident of another country. In exchange for what can he solve his problem?

"Thank you, it doesn't suit me," Sidney said, standing up. " I will not spy and betray the country."

Bering grabbed him by the sleeve and said ironically:

"I'm not asking for that." a mischievous twinkle flickered in his blue eyes, and his hand made an inviting gesture. Sidney obeyed hesitantly. – We will play a game with you as before… And you can win 80,000 pounds – just what you need. And to lose ..." he leaned across the table and looked Sidney straight in the eye, almost whispering the question. "Have you ever heard of Russian roulette?"


	3. Friendly advice

Sidney pulled the bell on the door of Babington's London house at half-past twelve.

As he waited, he was pleasantly surprised by the changes in the drawing-room. Think of it as a woman's hand is capable to create a cosiness in the house! And it's not just the change of curtains and upholstery, but the special atmosphere that invisibly felt in the air and warmed with its warmth even with an unlit fireplace. Will he ever be able to appreciate women's contribution to the decoration of his home? Thought after thought brought him back to Charlotte, and by the time lord and lady Babington entered the drawing-room, he was already imagining Charlotte choosing the upholstery for the nursery.…

The friendly greetings of the Lord and his young wife brought Sidney back to the real life of the here and now. He was happy for his friend and enjoyed listening to the story of the cities and countries the Babingtons visited on their honeymoon. Life went on as usual and that was what helped Sidney relax a little.

Both time and topics for conversation have long gone beyond small talk and persuasion to stay for lunch saved from thoughts and loneliness. For today. Or maybe the events of last night just turned out to be a dream?

Although the meal was friendly and casual, Sidney's worried look and unaccustomed silence gave Babington the signal That his friend needed a private conversation. Babington leaned over Ester tenderly and placed a kiss on her temple, then went with Sidney to the library and filled glasses with strong drinks.

"Do you know, Sidney, that you can say absolutely anything in front of my wife?" She's a wise woman and can sometimes give better advice than any man, " he began, handing Sidney a glass. 

"You're right, it is. But there are things in the world that you shouldn't say in front of a lady. It's not that I don't trust Esther, I just don't want to worry her... or shock her. He sank back into the chair, crossed his legs, took a drink, and then continued, looking his friend straight in the eye. "My friend, it looks like I made a serious mistake. But I gave my word and I must keep my word…"

"Are you still talking about getting engaged to Mrs. Campion?"

"No," his friend interrupted with a gesture, "It's still a problem, but not as acute as the one that's bothering me right now." He got up abruptly and turned to the fireplace, trying to hide his face and thinking that Babers really should know about all this. "I made a bet that could cost me my life. And I only have a week to solve the problem. 

"Sidney, you're not serious" Babers began with a grin, but quickly suppressed it as he assessed his friend's agitated expression. 

"You can't do this!" Babers exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. In two strides, he was at Sidney's side and fixed his position with a hand on his shoulder. 

"I can do anything". Sidney said firmly, leaning toward his friend. But his tone became less confident as he continued. "The only question is, how do I handle it after?"  
"If it's after," he thought, lowering his eyes, but went on about something else entirely:

"You're right, this is really about Mrs. Campion. Partially. It was no secret to you that I intended to propose to miss Heywood at Sanditon on that ill-fated night. You know, and that's why these plans weren't fated to come true. What you don't know is that I caught up with her carriage on the day she left. Oh, God, I couldn't help it! "

He began to walk around the room, trying to distract himself from his painful thoughts. 

"I have no idea what I was hoping for or what I wanted to achieve, but seeing her was vital. The conversation turned out to be crumpled. I didn't say or do anything I really wanted to, and in the silence between us, the ghost of Eliza hung like a death weight. She's gone. I stood on the road for a long time, watching her trail. And my heart sank. I realized that I couldn't live a day without Charlotte. In fact, I'm already dead. I talk, I move, I smile, but I feel nothing but the desire to see HER and hear HER. Every single day. I had to fix it! And get HER back.

"But how, with such a mood to live and fix everything, did you agree to a bet?"

"I was desperate, and the time passed too slowly. At this rate, I wouldn't have had time to become financially independent and pay off Tom's debts before I married Eliza, and believe me, I can't marry her. She is a proud woman, and not without sense, and I am almost sure that she, too, has had the idea that our engagement was a little premature lately. She doesn't love me, and she never did. There is a chance that she will release me as soon as a more worthy candidate appears on her horizon. But, be that as it may, Tom's debt, with Which it all began, must be repaid, or my sacrifice would have been in vain. And I played in an attempt to win. I've been able to do it so far. 

I met a player at the club yesterday. I don't know what, but I got his attention. He's a foreigner. Noble and rich. During the evening, I won and lost with varying success, but the day ended with the same as it came. Then this bored traveler offered me a game... with serious stakes. I don't know what I was thinking! Maybe I was drunk, maybe I was overconfident, or maybe his appearance was trustworthy and there was something in his manner that suggested this was just a test. I don't know! As a result, we agreed to meet in a week and finish the main game. I can't tell you the exact time and place of the meeting, or I'm sure you would have tried to interfere. But I gave my word that I would come, and God knows I will. Moreover, I will solve all my problems if I win, and if I lose... then it is not going to have any value." He gulped down what was left in the glass. 

Lord Babington leaned back in his chair and said in a low voice:

"But you can still do something, can't you?"

"No, I won't back down. My friend, I have never been a coward, and this time I intend to go all the way. I'm only here to ask you a favor. In the event that things turn out badly, you will be surety in my bussines until Henry and James come of age. I leave them my inheritance. "

"Of course you can count on me, Sidney!" A firm handshake sealed the agreement.

"However, Sidney, did it ever occur to you that you might have sat down with a dishonest player? And so I insist on your meeting with a gentleman. He is a sharpie and will enlighten you about possible card tricks. You took a responsible step, and I respect your decision. But it is my duty as a friend to make sure that you are on an equal footing with the enemy. Crowe and I will call on you at 9 today."

___

When the carriage turned into Drury lane, all three passengers were silent. What was there to talk about? Everything was discussed in the house behind tightly closed doors. Now, as he looked at the facades of buildings along the city's seedy neighborhood, he thought again and again of the night ride that had turned his life around three months ago.

Meeting Charlotte in a dark area of the city was truly a miracle. By the time he had found Mr. Molyneux's address, he had cooled down a little, and now he felt guilty for snapping at Charlotte in Mrs. Griffiths ' house. And although the girl was really to blame for Georgiana's escape, he was actually more angry with himself: a worthless guardian who could not restrain the impulses of the young heiress and ensure her safety! 

What was his surprise when, in the dim light of the lanterns, he realized that the girl who had so persistently fought off the attacker was Charlotte. He snapped at her again, but in his heart he was truly grateful that she was all right and alive. 

Their night's adventures and their time alone in the carriage were now dear memories to him. And so accidentally touched on the conversation about love for the first time touched his heart and soul, extracting the understanding that this topic for some reason excites him. He asked abruptly what she knew about love beyond what she had read in books, but deep down he was hurt by her supposed coldness towards him, while inside he was already maturing. 

He smiled at his thoughts and received an answer that brought him back to reality.

"We're getting close," Crowe said hollowly. "Mr. Dane is an experienced card player and professional. He can tell you about many tricks. We should be so lucky. At this time, he is usually quite drunk, but not yet beaten up and can talk normally."

Sidney and Babers looked at each other absently. 

A few minutes later, the carriage stopped at the entrance to one of the establishments. The dimly lit, almost basement room, smelling of cheap beer, sour sweat and traces of incontinence, met the three friends almost indifferently. Only the waiter stepped away from the counter and asked what to serve, as if the place had a choice. Crow, leaning close to the waiter's ear, made his request and received a nod of his head in the direction of the dark figure.

His reddish face, framed by a curly straw-colored beard, and the swollen skin under his eyes gave him away as an addict. Small pale eyes glanced around with predatory eyes, but they didn't pose a threat.

There was also a flaw in every item of his wardrobe. His thinning hair was covered by a battered hat. The tie around his neck was a dirty gray that almost didn't fulfill its purpose, and the collar of his shirt was spreading out in different directions. The waistcoat, with its partially missing buttons, was open at all, and the watch chain hanging from the pocket was still empty, revealing the absence of the usual chronometer.

When the formal greetings were over and a full mug of beer was placed on the table, Crowe turned to the cardsharp:

"Mr. Dane, we need your advice."

"Why mine?" A dry, cold-like voice rasped. "I don't take students and I don't reveal my secrets," the man continued, shuffling a deck of cards and smiling hideously, revealing the absence of several front teeth.

Seeing his smile, Sidney assessed the chances of the player's knowledge quality as questionable and grimaced. But you don't look a gift horse in the mouth. This disheveled old man was his only chance for today.

He sat down at the table across from sharper and leaned closer, trying to make sure that no one else could hear him, while Crowe and Babers next to him kept a sharp lookout:

"I'm not asking you to teach me. It's important for me to know the basics to make sure I'm sitting down with an honest player. I need a defense mechanism. Tell me what I need to know and I won't be left in debt, " and he rolled a rolled - up bill across the table.

The battered oldman's eyes brightened, and he took a sip of beer and said, "That can be arranged."

"First, make sure he's not wearing any "jewelry". I'm not talking about rings, although some may use them to distract attention. The more the stone attracts attention, the more you look in the wrong direction, while the opponent imperceptibly changes the cards. But I'm talking about complex mechanisms for replacing cards, which can be of any shape and size, but are usually attached to the wrist with thin cables or belts. My advice to you, ask to bare your hands to the elbow , so you will know if your opponent has such a device. In my case, the mechanism is more complex, " man pulled back the collar of his shirt, revealing the intersection of thin cables in the center of his chest.

"Use a new packed deck of cards, but even if you choose one, enlighten a couple of cards in the light of a candle, and make sure that there are no symbols that are not immediately noticeable. Cards can be speckled, rubbed, or pruned. Look at his fingers. Marked cards are important for the sensitivity of the fingers. His nails will most likely be well-groomed, and the pads of his fingers will be polished."

"Play in semi-darkness, so you will avoid the glare of speckling and reduce the chance to see your card when dealing, if the cards were waxed. Any glossy surface is a way for you to reveal your cards. Avoid mirrors and glass behind you-grandfather continued to shuffle the cards."

"Make sure that there is no accomplice in the gambling establishment, such as a peddler. Sometimes they sneak a peek at your cards and use certain words or gestures to let the other player know about the situation."

"But the main thing... watch his hands" and he laid out on the table one by one from the deck 4 aces, while Sidney had only sixes in his hands.

Sidney closed his eyes wearily and swore under his breath. Well, it seems that he has already lost his life, even before sitting down at the table with the opponent.


	4. Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention. This Chapter is a bit bleak and unsettling, but it opens up the mystery of Sidney's decision to get involved in the game. He prepares for the events of tomorrow and writes letters to friends and family.

"First things first, then emotions," Sidney had reasoned when he met with his lawyer on Monday to draw up his will. After all, if the order is reversed, the week will be empty, sad and hopeless. 

Now that Henry and James Parker are secured and a solid capital will be paid to them when they reach 21 years of age, you can safely enter the stream of feelings of duty and obligations, and again do not think about love. 

He spent the whole week on business matters, trying to pretend that life was going on as usual. Routine operations, meetings, and emails structured and divided his life into predictable time blocks, creating the illusion of control and a sense of security. The busier the day , the less time to think. And yet, looking back, he realized that in a week, perhaps, he did more than in the last 2 months. And if tomorrow, Friday, the sword of Damocles were not hanging over him, he could probably make significant progress in his business, applying the new experience as a management model. 

Will he have time to record his observations for the Manager today? And does he really care about this question?

Empty nights contrasted with the busy day. There was no sleep. There was a nervous feeling of excitement, followed by waves of sudden panic. Horror gripped the mind and body, and only strong alcohol could calm the fear. And falling asleep at 5 o'clock in the morning, he always woke up empty and broken, but a sense of duty and responsibility quickly returned him to the system, when the thought throbbed in his head that there was not much time left to wait. 

But today it should be different-tomorrow he needs a clear head. 

The day's commitment to Eliza had already taken up two hours of his time. For two empty hours, he paced the living room with a сup of cold tea in front of everyone. For two hours he smiled sweetly at her friends and acquaintances, who had so successfully visited the widow at this very hour. He was glad of this imaginary company, secretly glad that he did not need to be alone with her that evening. 

However, the presence of so many wives and widows in her living room suggested that Eliza was preparing for maneuvers. Which meant he would soon hear from her that SHE had chosen THEIR wedding date. How can he handle it? He just wanted to close his eyes and forget about everything. Which he did when the mantel clock solemnly struck the hour of his freedom. 

The return to Bedford place was unsettling. There is so little time left, and so much to do!

Still, before he sat down at his desk in the office, he walked nostalgically through the empty rooms, as if saying goodbye to what would be left of him. Dear family memories. Things that kept family histories. Arthur's favorite trinkets, lovingly collected by him in the collection and placed in the small home living room on the second floor. The horrendous number of bottles of ointments and medicines belonging to Diana... Tom's Restless, unsettled wardrobe, which looked as if it had been crammed with all the abundance of clothing that could not fit in Sanditon due to the expansion of his family…

He has to explain everything to his family. At least try. They will need answers. He would have needed them if anything had happened to any of them. And he went down wearily to compose a letter to Tom. 

The letter was not easy. He had been staring at a blank sheet of paper for 20 minutes, trying to compose a text without a hint of reproach. But the truth was that Tom unwittingly started the wheel of history that led Sidney to a sad ending. 

Sidney knew that. And Mary seemed to understand that. But not the eternal dreamer Tom. But the truth was also that if the brother suddenly understood and realized everything, a second tragedy in the family could not be avoided. And so the letter should gently smooth out the edges and leave That a slight sense of completion. But how do I do this? Be honest, but a little secretive. However, as always.

_Bedforth Place, London_  
_September 23, 1819_

_My dear brother,_

_I lost my life irrevocably. And I have to say goodbye ahead of time._

_Believe me, I do not regret anything, and if I had the chance to fix or change something, I would prefer only to plunge into personal family happiness. But not with Elise. It is a long-closed book, and on closer inspection it looks like an empty sheet._

_I'm sorry I couldn't marry Mrs. Campion for the money. When you have a true feeling in your life, everything else goes into the background. So it was with me. In an attempt to clarify my feelings and desires, I wandered in the maze for too long and just missed my chance for happiness. But part of me still believed in a miracle and waited._

_I'm too tired to do my duty and bury my emotions deep inside. They were like a volcano bubbling up inside me, ready to come out. And every single day I woke up thinking of escaping from the shackles of London and rushing to Willingden. But duty, Eliza, Sanditon, and the honor of the family were once again shackling me, forcing me to stay and covering me with despair._

_Meeting the mysterious gentleman at the club was like an answer to my prayers. His words were a sign from above. And I roughly jumped at the chance, fully aware of all the risks and consequences. It seemed like a good idea at the time… But if you're reading this letter, it means everything went wrong._

_A game where my life is at stake… I agreed to it myself._

_I took care of the will by naming your beautiful sons as my heirs. My business is thriving, and I believe it will continue to generate revenue under the supervision of Lord Babington._

_I have also arranged for the partial repayment of my debt to lady Denham. My bankers are instructed in detail about the terms and amounts of payment, if the order is not withdrawn by me back. This is only a fraction of the amount, but it's better than nothing. Then you will have to figure it out yourself._

_Don't be angry, don't be sad, and try to forgive me._

_Please tell Arthur and Diana about the cause of the accident – I have no words to explain what happened to people with such a fine mental organization. And it would be more accurate to say that it was a duel. But I think they will eventually learn the horrifying truth themselves._

_Take care of the children and Mary – they are all that is worth fighting for in this world. No money, no power, and no fame. I can see it especially clearly now. Take care of each other and it is better to go to Antigua. The scandal will subside sooner or later, and in a new place you can just be yourself without pretending. Still a family that I value, love and respect so much._

_Sidney._

The clock struck exactly 8. And he listened to their solemn trill. And then I took out more sheets and made notes to my friends.

_Bedforth Place, London_  
_September 23, 1819_

_My dear Crow!_

_You were right, it was a lousy idea. And if you are holding this letter in your hand, you should know that there is a case of choice rum waiting for you in the basement of Bedford place. So drink it! Alas, not for my health…_

_I'm grateful for everything. For friendship, humor, and good advice. But as always stubborn, I stand by my opinion and pay dearly for it._

_Don't be sad about me. You'd better just think I've gone to Antigua. I don't intend to go back._

_Take care._

_Sidney Parker._

He quickly folded the note into an envelope and sealed it with sealing wax.

_Bedforth Place, London_  
_September 23, 1819_

_My dear Babbers,_

_That's what we all feared. I lost. Forgive me for this!_

_You, like no one else, understand what it means to burn with love and not have a chance for a mutual response. What started out as a light weekend jaunt to Sanditon changed both my life and yours. I only wish my summer adventures at Sanditon had ended differently._

_I wish you happiness with your new wife and was very happy to be involved in this. It was an honor to be your best man and your friend._

_I am also grateful to you for agreeing to take on the burden of controlling the fate of my tribesmen. But there is another special person I am leaving prematurely. Charlotte._

_She needs to live. She has her whole life ahead of her. And it turns out that I was just one page, as much as I wanted to be something more. So make sure that during this difficult time, she will not be alone. Your wise wife might perhaps invite miss Heywood to accompany her._

_But I'm getting ahead of myself. And it is unlikely to have the right to give advice and interfere in your life, when with my failed to understand._

_Thank you for everything!_

_You were a good friend._

_Sidney Parker._

He put three letters in a pile and began the fourth.

_Bedforth Place, London_  
_September 23, 1819_

_Dear Mr. Heywood,_

_We don't know each other personally, and in other circumstances, I would have introduced myself in person, with all propriety, and discussed with you the possibility of putting you in charge. However, the situation does not require delay. If you're reading this letter, I'm probably dead._

_I was forced to make a very important decision and I will keep my word. I only have a week to complete my tasks, so I make decisions in a hurry. I have already made my will, but there is one important question that I believe only you can help me solve._

_My brother Tom Parker spoke of you as a sensible and modest man, and never once told me what invaluable help you had given him and Mary in the unfortunate incident with their carriage. I have also seen what your daughter Charlotte Haywood has grown up to be, whom I admire and idolize immensely. Her kindness, care, and common sense transformed Sanditon this summer from an ordinary fishing village to a fashionable social seaside resort. I sincerely believe that these qualities were acquired by her in the course of her upbringing, and therefore I consider you the most suitable person for my last request._

_I have in my care a rich planter's heiress from Antigua, miss Georgiana Lamb. She is an orphan and needs a guardian until she turns 21 on November 13, 1820. The situation is complicated by the fact that the state of miss Lamb today is about 107,000 pounds and this fact may attract questionable seekers of her hand. She needs protection and support. And education. Unfortunately, the caregiver with whom miss Lamb is currently living has, alas, shown several times her inability to restrain Georgiana and instill good manners in her. And so I must address you as a worthy and honest man._

_For the maintenance of Georgiana, her father allocated 3,000 pounds a year. The main capital is currently concentrated in Bank accounts and in income-generating securities. The list of accounts and banks is attached as a separate sheet. If you maintain your current capital allocation, you can continue to deliver a 6.5% annual return. Use the interest at your discretion._

_As a guardian, you can also set yourself a salary of 2,000 pounds, or refuse, as I did. However, in view of miss Lamb's difficult character, I would recommend that you keep your salary._

_That's all I can tell you. Miss Heywood will, I believe, enlighten you about miss Lamb's social behavior and the consequences of her personal drama, since she and Georgiana are friends._

_P.S. I Hope this email doesn't have to be sent, but if you do get it, don't think too badly of me. I think you understand better than anyone what decisions you sometimes have to make to protect your family._

_Sincerely yours,_  
_Sidney Parker._

The letter for Mr. Heywood could not, of course, be kept out of the thoughts of Charlotte. And the thought of her pierced his temple with a sharp needle that almost made him feel physical pain. How can I tell her? How do I say goodbye to her? He must do it! But does he have the right to write to her?

In a fit of desperate anger, he flicked the clock off the mantelpiece. And as he watched the flywheel try in vain to turn, dragging the gear with it, he felt just as helpless.  
You can break the clock, but you can't stop time. There was still one more thing to do. Reluctantly, he returned to his desk and pulled out another sheet of paper.

~~_Bedforth Place, London_ ~~  
~~_September 23, 1819_ ~~

~~_Mrs. Campion,_ ~~  
~~_I apologize for the disappointment of my death. I won't be able to attend the wedding. I don't want to._ ~~

He crossed it out and continued. It's hard to squeeze out words when you have nothing to say to a person.

_I cannot make you happy, and I regard our union as slavery. This is what prompted me to look for other ways to help my brother. Games of chance._  
_One day I met a man at the club who was ready to solve all of Tom's financial problems at once, and I agreed to play a game with Him where if I won, I would be free, and if I lost, I would be dead._

He crossed it out again, crumpled the paper, and threw it into the fire. He had nothing to say to the most outsider in his life – his fiancee, Eliza Campion. She would still learn of his death from the gossip of the world and accept the point of view that the world would dictate. He won't write goodbyes to Mrs. Campion. There are more important things…

He took a deep breath, took out a new sheet, and, softening, began to write in a smooth hand:

_My dear Charlotte…_


	5. Russian roulette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the day has come when the game should take place. It's a hard chapter, but you believe in our boy, right?

Clean-shaven, in his new underwear and best vest, Sidney Parker entered the gentlemen's club at 7 p.m. Well, now he just have to wait for Bering and sit down at the cards.

A week ago, he sent a note to the Chairman asking for a temporary pass to the club to Alexander Bering. He had to lie that the foreigner was looking for a shooting range where you can practice shooting skills even while on vacation. How else could the possible consequences be explained?

Sidney went to the Manager and asked if his guest had arrived at the club, and believing the rumor of Russian unpunctuality, was surprised that the guest had already arrived and was now waiting in the Armory. 

When Sidney entered the Armory, he did not immediately recognize him: expecting to see a bright red uniform, he stared at the man in a civil dress. Well, second surprise of the day. 

Bering's uniform of solid dark green cloth, well cut to fit, differed from civilian clothing only in epaulettes with tassels on the shoulders and gold embroidery on the stand-up collar. Under his arm, Bering clutched two wooden cases inlaid with precious wood mosaics, saying that they contained quite valuable weapons. He was wearing high boots with tassels and clutched a cap, from which white gloves were slightly protruding inside. His hair was definitely cropped compared to last time, but there was nothing to indicate that he had done it today. It seemed to be an ordinary day for a foreigner! And it was very embarrassing. Bering definitely wasn't going to die today.

After exchanging a firm handshake, the men greeted each other and went to the shooting range. There Bering unpacked his wooden cases and brought out two fine dueling pistols. He handed Sidney the number 1 pistol and watched curiously as Sidney handled the weapon. 

With a quick glance at the hussar, Parker pinched the neck of the powder bottle, turned it over, pressed the valve, then poured the measured powder into the muzzle. He tossed the lead ball into the hole, inserted the ramrod into the muzzle, and tapped the hammer, driving the bullet into the barrel. Then, confidently pulling the trigger, he inserted the cap, and handed the already loaded pistol to Bering. He definitely knew how to handle a weapon. And Bering smiled contentedly.

When the second gun was loaded, the men stood next to the targets and fired. Bering got to the centre, Sidney close, but not quite as good. But his accuracy increased from time to time, and when the pistols were loaded for the fourth time, he showed a result equal to Bering. 

Then the captain put the dueling pistols back in the trunk and opened a smaller box, taking out a slightly strange pistol. 

"The invention of the American gunsmith Wheeler, a prototype, released last year" commented Bering. "Bought it in the Caucasus this spring. It is not very convenient for frequent shooting, but it copes well with targets at close range… That's what we need. Or do you prefer a different weapon?"

Sidney picked up the heavy pistol. This was the first time he had ever handled this type of weapon. Comfortable mahogany handle with metal binding, short barrel, rotating drum ... Beautiful and deadly. A work of art compared to what he had previously seen. The new type of gun was good for him – when it happened, they might think it was an accident…

"No, I'm fine with it." - He answered in a flat voice and handed the gun to Bering. The hussar took it, inserted the unusual-looking cartridges, turned right sideways, took aim, and pulled the trigger. A deafening sound and a sea of smoke, and in place of the target – a gaping hole.

Sidney swallowed. This is not a joke. This is really happening. How long does he have to live? An hour? Two? Less?

"Your turn. Try it" Bering said dispassionately, and handed Sidney the weapon. 

His hands were shaking treacherously, but Sidney controlled his fear. He took the gun firmly, turned, and took aim. The trigger was softer than a dueling pistol, and the shot was more accurate. A fine weapon. If it had happened in other circumstances, he would have been happy to add to his collection. This is out of the question now. 

His accuracy did not fail him this time – the bullet hit the very center. 

"Do you like shooting, Mr. Parker?" the foreigner asked idly as he accepted the weapon from Sidney. 

"No. I don't shoot very often. Only here, in the club, in the company. And sometimes on the hunt. But believe me, I don't like it."

"But you're pretty good. This is rare among those who are not interested in shooting seriously and for a long time."

"Why all these questions? We're not here for small talk" Sidney replied rather rudely.

"You're right." Bering said with a slight smile. "I appreciate the business approach. Then please come to the game room." And taking two cases with him, Bering went into the hall.

As they entered the private game room, Sidney looked around. He had been in this room before, but now he kept replaying the valuable instructions of the cardsharp in his head. Keep away from windows, mirrors, and any reflective surfaces. Well, the green baize table was in the center of the room. There was a bottle of wine and glasses on the table, which would have to be disposed of before the game started. A chandelier with 6 candles hung over the gaming table, dimly illuminating the space, and therefore on the table itself there was an additional candelabra for 3 candles - Sidney extinguished 2 of them and the lighting became even more muted.

When the opponents sat opposite each other and they were brought a choice of several decks on a tray, and each of them chose 3. They were left alone.

"Tell me, Mr. Parker, have you sat down to the table this week?" Bering asked with interest, pouring wine into glasses.

"No" - Sidney remembering the words of the old sharper suddenly began to look with interest at his opponent: no rings, no well-groomed nails, no polishing.

"Were you afraid to scare off your luck?" and the hussar's left eyebrow went up.

"No. I was busy. I had things to finish before " Sidney waved a hand vaguely.

Having drunk from a glass of Bering leaned back in his chair, put the ankle to the knee, and is clearly amused said:  
"I see in you, Mr. Parker, a certain sophistication in the game. What's the next step? Would you suggest we undress?"

"Actually, Yes," Sidney said uncomfortably, hiding his eyes. "I need to make sure you're clean."

"Well, that's your right." He put the empty glass on the table, got up, took off his coat and waistcoat, and began to pull off his shirt. Sidney was doing the same thing with him.

The stripped-to-the-waist hussar slowly turned around 360 degrees, demonstrating that there were no devices on him. And Sidney saw the deep scars that accompanied a military man. There were long, clear cuts on his arms and forearm that must have been from a saber. Bullet marks were visible in the left arm and sternum. And along the back could be seen a few small marks – the shrapnel. Sidney felt uncomfortable.

When both sides demonstrated their honesty, they put on their shirts again. However, Sidney chose to roll up his sleeves to the elbow, and Behring, looking at him, mirrored the same. Then, without a toast, each of them drank a glass of wine in one gulp.

The first 4 decks were played with normal bets.

"Are we still going to beat around the Bush and drive 200 pounds back and forth?" Baring asked casually, but he shot a sharp glance at Sшdney. – "Isn't it time to move on to really worthwhile bets?"

"If that's what you want." Sidney said quietly, pouring the last of the wine into their glasses. He got up and carried the empty bottle to the other end of the room, closer to the door. – "However, I know what I'm playing for. But I have no idea what you need."

"Oh, you mean the bet? I am a cavalryman and only the horse is of special value to me. Are you ready to put your horse on the line, Mr. Parker?"

"Of course, if that's what you want."

The men exchanged receipts, and Bering explained the rules as he loaded the gun.

"We're playing a game. And the loser pulls the trigger. Once! Without heroism. Regardless of the result of the shot, the winning side has the right to take the receipt of the opponent. If the case ends in failure, the winner takes the receipt and his own. If the shooter is lucky and the shot is empty, we can continue the game if both sides come to this agreement. In any case, no one in this club should know about the rules of the game and the reasons for it."

The hussar emptied all the bullets, inserted only one, and spun the drum. After stopping the drum, he carefully placed the gun in the center of the table, next to the deck. He gulped down the last of his wine and began shuffling the deck.

From the start of the game, Sidney was losing focus. The gun in the center of the table made it difficult to concentrate. He thoughtlessly flipped cards with a higher card in the presence of smaller trumps, but did not realize this immediately. The throbbing phantom pain in his temple was already creeping up on his consciousness, and the drop of sweat dripping from his forehead spoke of excessive tension. He was thirsty, but he didn't want to drink the wine.

His opponent, on the other hand, was quite calm. He pondered each move for a long time, looking at his cards, leaning back in his chair, changing positions, and seemed to be lost in himself. His light blue eyes, usually friendly, were now sharp arrows, as if he was setting up defense paths a few steps ahead, but doing so only out of pure excitement.

A winner in everything, Sidney thought, and remembered the other hard blue eyes. Eliza. Oh, these two would definitely find a common language with their desire to win always and in everything.

His distracted gaze wandered over the captain's face, trying to figure out what he was thinking and what his chances were, when he seemed to wake up, discarded one of the cards and reached for the last card of the deck. Well, here's the finale, Sidney thought. It's time to show your cards. And looking at Bering's clear combination, Sidney knew that he had lost.

He got up slowly, put on his vest, and buttoned it up. He attached the watch chain and put it in a separate pocket. He put on his coat and, looking at his reflection in the distant window against the black night, straightened his collar and straightened his tie. At least it will be found in a decent form.

He found a sheet of paper in his coat pocket and carefully extracted it. Letter to Charlotte. A farewell letter to Charlotte. Sidney kissed it, closed his eyes, thought it over again, and handed it to his partner.

"Captain, one last request. I ask you to send this email in the morning."

"Is this a letter to your fiancee?" Baring asked, looking at Sidney appraisingly.

"No, this is a letter to my beloved" - he once again insistently handed the letter and the hussar accepted it with a slight bow.

"And what do you say to your beloved, if not a secret?"

"The truth," Sidney said simply. –"I have nothing to hide. But I must say goodbye to her, since fate has not given us a chance to be together." He smiled ruefully at that.

Then he drank the last glass in one gulp. He stood up straight, squared his shoulders, raised his head proudly, put the gun to his temple, and pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, a new chapter is coming soon. In the meantime, what will happen next? Write in the comments.


	6. Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every action has a story behind it. In this chapter, we will learn the reasons that prompted Bering to offer Sidney a game of roulette

A mechanism clanked in his right ear, but no shot was fired. Time seemed to slow down. He felt that he had taken the gun away from his temple and was looking at it with wild eyes, as if seeing it for the first time. His first thought was that something was wrong with the weapon and he swung it back to his temple and fired. Silence again. Only the figure of the hussar, who had taken off abruptly, grasped his hand with unprecedented force.

"Enough! Do you want to kill yourself?" an enraged Bering snatched the gun from Sidney. - "Don't push your luck!" The hussar pointed the weapon at an empty bottle on the other side of the room and pulled the trigger almost without aiming - the bottle shattered.

People came running at the noise, looking around warily. The room still smelled of gunpowder and was eerily silent, while the two male figures stood face to face and did not move.

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen! Otherwise I couldn't have attracted your attention and ordered a new bottle! And it is better two! I promise I won't shoot again. I'm out of ammo." He held up two hands in surrender.

The group of gentlemen who had gathered relaxed. There was a wave of uncertain laughter at the entrance.

"Sir, you can't shoot in this room or bring weapons in here. All shooting exercises are performed only in the shooting range area. Please hand over your weapons. You can pick it up at the exit."

Bering nodded and held out the gun, holding it at arm's length with open palms.

"Mr. Parker, are you all right?" the receptionist asked worriedly before taking the weapon from the guest.

Pale Sidney nodded and answered.

"Yes, but I need a drink." He straightened his tails and sat down.

The club's evening manager nodded and walked out the door. The crowd had already dispersed.

There was a tense silence in the room as the drinks were brought in. Sidney sat staring blankly into the distance, and Bering still stood there, motionless, his left boot tapping impatiently. 

As the waiter left the room and closed the door behind him, the hussar whirled around and stared at Sidney. He started to say something, but realized that the other was in a trance. I had to shake him by the shoulder before shoving a glass of ruby liquid into his hands. 

His hand was still on Sidney's shoulder, and his gaze was penetrating in a soul. "I needed to make sure you were a decent person and kept your word before I got involved in solving your problem. It was important for me to know that for the sake of love you are really ready to go to the end."

Sidney looked up at him blindly, and Bering continued. 

"I am not a tyrant, as you may think, but a deeply unhappy man. I'm not amused by blood games. And nothing else in the world. I'm too tired to enjoy anything. I'm empty. And for quite some time now."

He walked slowly to the edge of the table and lit two candles from the stub. Then he took Sidney's receipt and held it slowly to the fire, watching the paper writhe under the onslaught of the flames.

"I don't need your horse. I don't need anything from you at all. On the contrary, you have done me an invaluable service and allowed me to believe in life and... in love again." He smiled ruefully and tossed the nearly burnt leaf onto the tray.

"You are the first person to complete the game. At least it almost cost you your life! Usually the players who agreed to this didn't show up at the appointed day and hour, or tearfully begged for mercy, or worse, pointed a gun at me. But as I said, this is an experimental weapon. Few people saw him. And no one has spent more time with him than I have. And I know one of its features!" Bering tapped his knuckles on the table and began to wander around the room, nervously touching the knickknacks that decorated the room. His speech became clear and unhurried, as if he chose each word carefully. "If you insert only one bullet into the gun, and then spin the drum, the bullet will stop the drum with its weight so that the first 2-3 shots will be empty, and only by the 3rd or 4th bullet hits the muzzle. So I wasn't going to kill anyone. I was just testing your hardness. And you passed this test brilliantly!"

The words echoed in Sidney's head like a distant dream. And all he saw now was the image of Charlotte. Worried eyes in the candlelight. The same image that had come to him after the devastating announcement that he was forced to become engaged to Mrs. Campion. It still haunted him, and seemed to reproach him that Sidney had rewritten his story in the wrong way. What he had intended as an attempt to get even one step closer to Charlotte could undo EVERYTHING and separate him from her forever. What a fool he was! He almost put a bullet in his head after being persuaded by an outsider! What was he hoping for?

Anger filled him drop by drop, bringing him to his senses. The adrenaline that dominated his body was pounding painfully against his temples. He wanted to run and fight. Do something! And he clenched his fists painfully until his fingers crunched, watching the hussar with only one glance, as if he were a prey. If this impudent man utters another word, he will definitely not be able to restrain himself and will punch him in his impartial face. However, Bering did not approach him, and Sidney gradually began to understand the meaning of the words. Secret. Empty shot. I didn't try to kill anyone. Checked. Test. Passed…

"What?" Sidney said uncertainly, raising his head proudly.

"I like you, Mr. Parker. You are a strong man. And survive... this. " He nodded casually at the table. "You courageously sat down at the table, knowing that the stakes are very high and you are not immune from death. And they did it not out of desperation to pay off debts and not out of empty excitement, but for a very good reason - for love. And I appreciate it more than anyone else. 

You're a lucky man, Mr. Parker. Your love is alive and you can still get it back. I wasn't so lucky."

"Sofia" He said her name dreamily, as if savoring it. "That damned fashion killed her! Well, who, tell me, will decide to go out in a 20-degree frost in a light muslin dress in a windy St. Petersburg? Meanwhile, young ladies deliberately wet dresses, making out the folds, and in this form went to social events! Including Sofia and my sister. 

My sister has always been in good health and only had a slight cold, but Sofia… Sofia died. She died on December 7, 1812, 2 weeks before my return from the infirmary, where I spent almost 3 months after the Borodino wounds. You saw the scars." Bering waved a languid hand. 

"Sometimes I think she sacrificed her life for me," he continued to wander around the room. "I'm superstitious, you see. And from childhood I was brought up in the traditions of mysticism. I believe in secret signs and omens.

I was badly wounded in the battle of Borodino. 3 bullets hit me and one of them-right in the chest." Bering thumped his sternum, and there were tears in his eyes. "Under normal circumstances, I would have died on the spot, but a miracle happened and this particular wound was not dangerous. But at what cost! Sofia protected me! 

I always had the book that Sofia had given me before the war in my breast pocket under my coat. La Rochefoucauld's Maxims. Lines about love. They comforted me along the way and nurtured my feelings for her. I always compared all the poet's statements with her image and cherished the hope of an early meeting. As a bookmark in the book, I used a medallion with its miniature. So she was always with me… I read her poems and told her, as I fell asleep, how my day went, where I was, what cities and countries I visited, and what she might like about the area. 

On that day the book also rested under the form and this saved my life…"

He pulled out the package and carefully unfolded it, revealing a scarlet pocket book and a locket, punctured through with a smooth circular track. And what had been a medallion now represented a woman's torso in a white silk dress, but ... without a head. 

"The bullet rammed through the book and the locket, cutting into my rib on the very surface. Oh, if it weren't for these obstacles, it would have gone straight to the heart. Unfortunately, the bullet damaged the locket-the only image of my Sofia. And now every day her image disappears more and more from my memory. And I dread the day when I won't remember what she looked like. And even though it's been more than 5 years, I still can't believe her ridiculous death, and I think that if it wasn't for this incident, she might still be alive. 

And every day I blame myself for the fact that he was still alive. And I would gladly exchange my life with her! Oh, if only it were possible! But I understand more than anyone else that, alas, nothing can be done. I can't let her go, even though I know my agony is hopeless." 

Bering gently ran his fingertips over the portrait and closed his eyes, trying to recall the image he loved.

"So, Mr. Parker, take care of your love. Say what you really feel before it's too late. Your love is alive and all that separates you from it is just money. I will give them to you in memory of my Sophia, and I will know that I have done my duty to her memory, for all that is good in me was formed only under her influence. It is only through the memory of her that I have remained a man" and Baring persistently handed Sidney a receipt, according to which the Bank of London undertakes to pay the bearer 80,000 pounds. 

Sidney hesitantly took the sheet of paper and unfolded it, reading it like someone else's will. 

"But why are you doing this? You don't have to. After all, it's too much money. I can't accept it!"

"I want to. And that's what Sofia would want. She was always so romantic and kind, trying to make everyone happy. And I swore on her grave that I would find people who really loved each other and help them connect in her memory."

Bering sipped the wine straight from the bottle and continued. 

"I'm also extremely rich. In the 5 years that I have been in the Caucasus, I have not spent a single ruble of my own funds. The military rank is maintained by the state, and a person without a desire to live and have nothing to spend. So the funds remained intact. 

I would have spent it on charity anyway. So let them bring you real benefits. You can still rewrite your history. So do it!" He raised the bottle in the air as if making a toast, then leaned back against the neck, sipping straight from the bottle. 

Sidney took an embarrassed sip from his glass and set it down on the table. He still had doubts. 

"But captain, how can I thank you? And how do I return this amount to you?"

Baring leaned on the back of Sidney's chair and brought his face close to hers, looking directly into Sidney's eyes.

"Answer a couple of questions honestly." He continued when Sidney nodded.

"What are your thoughts doing when you are alone?"

"Charlotte," Sidney said, confused.

"Would you and Charlotte have survived on a desert island?"

"Definitely. And I dare say she would have found a way out or a hiding place faster than I did." 

"What color are your Charlotte's eyes?"

"Brown" - replied Sidney, I do not understand why this issue.

"What color are the eyes of your children that you see in your dreams?"

"Brown," Sidney said softly. He lowered his eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips. 

"That's all you need to know about the future, Mr. Parker. I was right. This is love!" Baring put his hand on Sidney's chest. "And this is just money." he nodded casually at the sheet of paper that Sidney still held in his hands. 

"Let's drink to love, Mr. Parker." Bering winked playfully as he filled their glasses.

"Call me Sidney."

"And you call me Alexander." Bering drained his glass and held out his hand to Sidney. "Goodbye, Sidney. I wish you and your beloved happiness. And good luck. And I'm going to have to get out of London as soon as possible after all the noise I've made here. 

Bering had taken a few steps toward the exit when he suddenly turned around and said:

"But promise me that you will name one of your and Charlotte's daughters Sophia!"

"I promise! And I'll name my son Alexander"

A sincere smile touched the foreigner's eyes, but he only said the usual social words in response:

"As you wish."


	7. Sunrise

After spending another 10-15 minutes alone in the game room, Sidney went outside and breathed in the fresh air. The wet smell of leaves. It looked like it was raining last night, but he didn't hear it at the club. Autumn was coming, but it was only now that he realized that the trees were full of yellow leaves. How did he miss it? Only yesterday, it seemed, the city was haunted by the summer heat, and locked in the stone bag of his home, he felt tired and aged so much that he was ready to say goodbye to life without regrets and worries. 

By some miracle, he managed to survive the night. His eyes were closed and he was sleepy, but at the same time he was haunted by a strong sense of excitement. Ideas, plans, changes – all the things that he used to put off for later, thinking that he still has plenty of time ahead of him. But this night, no matter how terrible it was, still forced to put all the Pros and Cons on the scales, weigh and make a choice. 

He didn't want to smoke. To drink, too. Just look ahead with eyes wide open. 

Somehow that night had cleared him. Swept away all unnecessary things, giving a true purpose in life. Charlotte. Her happiness and love. No matter what. Despite everything. By all means. 

However, this night also produced something more substantial. Bering's receipt, which he clutched in his hand, solves many of his problems in one fell swoop. Tom's debt is paid off and Sidney's hands are untied. At least in financial matters. 

He looked around, peering through the dimly lit upper windows of the mansions opposite. The cobblestones, the carved railings with arrowheads, all seemed to point the way in one direction - to the river. At any other time, he would have decided to take a walk, think and clear his head. But not today - the area in the district was not calm. There is no point in taking any more chances or trying your luck, as Bering said. So Sidney hired one of the carriages waiting at the entrance and went to Bedford place. 

The first thing he did was to go into the study and burn all the letters written on such a tragic occasion in the fireplace. And watching the fire devour the hard-pressed lines with gusto, Sidney finally felt a sense of relief. Everything worked out. He is alive, well, and determined. 

He looked up in surprise at the clock on the mantelpiece, when they ran 5 in the morning. Well, the servants had evidently found a replacement for the mechanism they had mercilessly smashed just a day ago. Time continued to run. The steady progress of the clock was reassuring, as if to say that life was going on and everything would get better.

Tomorrow will be a new day and a new challenge. Elisa. He must find a way around this obstacle openly, honestly, and forever. 

Wearily rubbing his eyes, Sidney sat down at the table and wrote two notes - Babington and Crowe should find out early in the morning that he was all right. Hastily sealing the envelopes, he left them on the mail tray – they will be picked up and delivered in about 3 hours. And with a weary glance back at the empty hall and corridor, which were gradually beginning to fill with the ghostly light of dawn, he went up to the top. He washed, undressed, and went to bed, intending to sleep until dinner.

___

The predictable fog in Sidney Parker's head had done its job: he didn't even know that a pair of sharp eyes had followed him all the way to the carriage entrance.

As the carriage started to take Sidney Parker home, Baring, for it was he, stepped out of the shadows and stubbed out his cigarette with the heel of his boot. He watched the carriage turn and then ducked back into the club. 

When he picked up his gun at the reception desk and looked the clerk straight in the eye, he realized that this was the man he needed. Bering leaned close to the administrator's ear and whispered:

"I hope you understand that everything that happened in the game room today must remain a secret. Russian roulette is not a game for the faint of heart. Not everyone dares to play it like Mr. Parker."

The receptionist nodded nervously, but relaxed when Bering winked at him and tapped the counter twice, leaving a rolled-up bill under his palm. Then the captain turned on his heel, pulled on his cap, and walked quickly to the door. Now he was calm, tomorrow the whole of London is whispering about how the game was played by Mr Sidney Parker. 

Bering stopped midway, as if thinking of something else, but shook his head and continued on his way. Come what may, if fate so wills. He had done everything he could to help Sidney Parker, and how he would persuade the girl to believe him again was no longer his concern. 

He took two sharp steps again, but stopped again and growled. No, you can't leave the case half-finished. But who is he to argue with fate and interfere? He needed confidence in his decision. So when he returned to the reception Desk, an unexpected question came out of his mouth:

"Are there any dice in the game room?"

"No, sir. This is a gentlemen's club. Games of a different order are played here. 

"I see," Bering said through gritted teeth. But then he took a coin out of his pocket and tossed it. "Heads or tails?"

"An heads, sir…"

"Well, you won. Heads. And it means "Yes" ... the Coin is yours, and I think I forgot something in the game room… 

He returned to the empty room, where the candles were still burning dimly, took a letter from his pocket, and casually tossed it under the chair where Sidney Parker had been sitting. Well, sometimes fate needs help. And what can be a greater incentive to forgive and accept the person you love, if not his imaginary death? 

"I hope the young lady is in good health," he whispered uncertainly, blew out the candle, and left the gentlemen's club and London for good.

____

He awoke at half-past one and greeted Saturday afternoon with a smile. Strong tea and a hearty breakfast are what you need to make plans for the day. First, go to the Bank with Bering's receipt and start the process of transferring funds to Sanditon's accounts – the amount is large and it will take more than one day. Then to Babington and Crowe – to tell Them about the events of the previous night and ask for advice on how to resolve the issue with Eliza. 

But the plans did not come true. The late Breakfast was interrupted by a brief note from Eliza, "Come to me Immediately." Without greetings, courtesy, or addresses. Something out of the ordinary happened. After carelessly crumpling up his dinner napkin and throwing it on the table, he went upstairs to dress in frustration. And 15 minutes later, I got into the carriage, buttoned up. 

The polite tea at Eliza's house lasted 10 minutes. He was silent. She was silent. He had nothing to say. She, on the other hand, wanted to know a lot. Rumours had been floating around London for half a day, but looking at his unruffled appearance, Eliza couldn't believe it was really true. Finally, setting her empty сup aside, she turned a searching gaze on him and asked softly:

"I hear you had an adventurous night?"

"What makes you think that? I spent the night at a gentlemen's club." He didn't want to start a conversation with her before he'd discussed strategy with Babington. And although his friend had never been in a situation where it was necessary to break off an engagement, his common sense and impeccable manners could tell what to do. 

Elise frowned. It was obvious that he was hiding something and did not tell, and so removing the guise of an impeccable society lady, she changed her tone and said:

"I'm not going to beat around the Bush and say it straight. I heard a rumor that you shot yourself last night… It's true?"

Sidney closed his eyes and took a deep breath before briefly answering "Yes." 

A mixture of concern, obvious interest, and romantic courage showed on Mrs. Campion's face before she asked:

"Was it a duel? Because of me?" her wide-open blue eyes twinkled slightly.

"No" Sidney was brief again. 

"Because of someone else?" She drew back a little, but her eyes were still wide with surprise.

"No, it wasn't a duel. It was a bet. Russian roulette. I got into this to solve Tom's situation."

"But you could have been killed!" Elise exclaimed. 

"I know. But I didn't care. My life doesn't belong to me…"

"Are you really so unhappy... with me that you were willing to sacrifice your life?"

"Alas, Yes, Mrs. Campion. I was deluding myself that things might be different. But the truth is, I feel like a hunted animal. Every day begins with denying my desires and aspirations in an attempt to please you and meet your standards. I'm tired. I feel guilty for hurting someone I care about. And all I can think about is how to fix it. We have different ideas about what marriage and family are. I can't make you happy. And please let me go."

"Sidney..." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I never meant to make you unhappy. I didn't even think it could go this far! I thought our past and changed circumstances would do the trick. That you will love me. Again. And we will be happy. No more or less than the other couples in London."

"Mrs. Campion, I'm not the same person I was ten years ago. I have other feelings and aspirations. And last night made that particularly clear. I don't want to compromise anymore, and I don't want to torment you or myself. I'll be honest with you. My heart is busy. Release me. Our union will not bring you happiness. And you deserve to be happy just as much as everyone else. You are young and beautiful, and you will meet your man again. But it's not me. And I hope you understand that." 

Eliza got up, walked around the sofa, and went to the window, pulling back the lace curtain. The street was busy: carriages going both ways, couples strolling, families with children. Life was so close and yet separated from it by a thin glass. Always has been. She wanted to be a part of it, but for some reason she was always a bystander. Just like now.

"Well, Sidney. You're right. I tried to replace my life with other people's dreams and ideas. I release you from your word. There will be a notice in the newspaper tomorrow to cancel the engagement." And turning to him and looking into his eyes, she said in a rather soft and sad voice: "I'm sorry, Sidney. I wish you happiness. You're free to go." She smiled ruefully.

"Thank you, Mrs. Campion. I can breathe again tomorrow… I wish you happiness. Goodbye."

He bowed and left. 

Eliza watched him walk to the door, then sighed briefly and smiled. So what do we have? She was alone again. Hopes for a quiet family happiness were not destined to come true. And while it was unpleasant to feel a brash new generation treading on her heels, she was still young and beautiful. Her capital was not affected by this transaction. She is still respected in the world. It remains to take something for these two hours of time on Thursday from 3 to 5. Well, she'll do it pretty quickly. 

It was a shame she hadn't brought him to the manor and introduced him to the children. But now it's even better. However, children are growing up and soon they will need men's attention. So it's time to think about marriage again, and it's better to start looking now, before young debutantes flood London.

What should I do? What's the best thing to do? Stay in London now and pay visits? Or go to Paris and be the most fashionable lady in the season? It's not an easy decision. This needs to be considered.

___

He breathed a sigh of relief as he left Eliza's room. It's done. Tomorrow the ad would be in the newspaper, and he could rush off to Charlotte's. How best to let her know about her freedom? By letter or by visit?

It suddenly dawned on him that the letter for Charlotte he had carried separately – it was not in the General pile of letters that he had burned. Where is it? 

He jumped into the carriage, shouting "to Bedford place," and almost jumped out of the carriage when he arrived at the house. 

When he searched the coat of the day before, he realized that the letter was not there. As he recalled the events of the previous night, he remembered that he had passed it on to Bering. Where did the letter go then? Did the hussar take it with him, or did it remain in the club? First he will check the club, then he will look for Bering at the address where the invitation to the club was sent! 

However, the cards of fate were again shuffled: for the club assured him that the letter left on the gaming table had been sent to the addressee in the morning. 

"6 hours!" Sidney whispered resignedly. 

Six hours separated him and the mail coach.


	8. Chasing shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Sidney rushes to Willingen in an attempt to smooth over the possible harm to Charlotte from his letter. So let's wish him good luck

After quickly scribbling notes to Lord Babington and Crowe at the club about his departure, and writing a letter to the editor of the paper asking him to bear the cost of publishing Mrs. Campion's advertisement, Sidney was in the carriage for Willingden within 15 minutes. And rubbing his eyes wearily, he was glad that he had managed to stop by the bank with the receipt before meeting Eliza. The process is running. It remains only to wait. 

He had instructed the coachman to drive as fast as he could, and now, as he left the cobbled streets of London, he felt the roughness of the country roads beneath him, shifting from one side of the carriage to the other. The carriage was shaking and the horses were racing, but everything seemed very slow to him. The impatience inside him spread through his body to the tips of his fingers and his hands desperately wanted something to do. 

How can you catch up with the time? And overtake? 6 hours difference between sending a letter and its departure could turn into a fatal accident. He only knew charlotte's sunny side so far, but he also knew that she could be intemperate. How will a girl who loves books react to a letter? and in the head, alas, climbed not the plots of tearful novels, but the tragedies of Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet. Is Charlotte capable of harming herself? Oh, God, what a fool he had been to pour out his thoughts and feelings on paper!

Anxiety filled his brain. What to do? He need a distraction. In such situations, he was always helped by the score. He often found himself counting his steps, just walking along the road when he was out of his mind. It helped to relax and bring the situation back under control. The numbers do not deceive and do not exude emotions. 

Willingden is about an 8-hour drive away. the letters were picked up from the club at 10. While delivered to the post office and to the sorting station-already 12. So far, they've sorted it out and put it in separate directions – it's been an hour or two. Next, the bags were loaded into a mail coach and sent in the right direction. The mail coach, unloading bags, stops at each station, which means it moves slower. In total, he can be late for only 2 hours. But those two hours would be enough to throw Charlotte into confusion. Or perhaps, after the last stop, none of the postal workers would take the letter so late to Willingden and wait until tomorrow. That would be perfect! But it is unlikely that this can happen… So the only way to prevent misfortune is to move faster. So you need to change horses more often. And at every station to ask how long ago the post-chaise had left for Willingden…

So, it's an 8-hour drive to Willingden. He left the club at about 16: 00. he'll arrive at night. Too damn late! and not courteous. but he's still going! what if she needs help? 

If it necessary, he would spend the night in the carriage. But he had to make sure she was all right! Look her in the eye. Hold her hand…

Okay, stop! He's unannounced. he doesn't know the family! How to explain your visit, especially at such a late time. Did you drive by? No one will believe it! 

He let out a desperate groan and put his hands to his head. 

He will tell the truth! You just need to calm down, come up with a speech and rehearse. That's what he'll do while the coach rushes to Willingden. Anything to avoid thinking he was late…

\---

Yesterday, Charlotte fell asleep in a restless sleep. Something seemed to be pressing on her all day, even though the weather was clear and dry. The still-warm sunbeams shone insistently through the windows, calling for a walk on this fine day. A light breeze lifted the dead leaves from the trees and spread them chaotically in a colorful carpet under their feet. Everything was fine. Everything was as usual. But deep down, there was a feeling of unease, a premonition that she couldn't explain to herself. The heart was pounding at a frantic pace, then seemed to skip beats. And the worry made her dizzy. 

Charlotte, who had been particularly fond of privacy since her return to Willingden, had felt the urge to spend the day with her family yesterday. After studying all day with her younger siblings, she quickly got tired and went to bed early. It was only there, at the top, when she extinguished the candle, that she felt a nagging pain in the area of her heart. The worry came from there. And putting her hand to her heart, Charlotte breathed deeply, trying to hold back the tears. Then she crawled into bed, curled up, and poured all her despair into the pillow.

She hadn't heard Alison and Emilia – the eldest Heywood daughters – settle into their beds, but she'd woken up with a scream in the middle of the night. Almost immediately, Alison's agitated face was beside her as she jumped off her bed and stood barefoot in the moonlight. 

"Charlotte, what's wrong? Are you all right?"

"Just... a bad dream," Charlotte managed to say, leaning back against the pillows. "Go to bed, Alison. You'll catch a cold. she closed her eyes and saw again the image of sidney parker saying "that's all" to her on the night of the regatta and walking away. 

Since her return to Willingden, she had usually been haunted by happier memories, such as cricket, a walk on the beach, the evening before the ball in London, the ball itself, the regatta, a kiss and ... almost a proposal. She also thought back over and over to their farewell on the cliff, remembering his words, his face, and those sad eyes that spoke volumes. What he said and how he said it broke her heart. She wanted to touch him and comfort him, to whisper words about her true feelings, to breathe in his scent again and feel his warmth next to her, running her fingers over his shoulders and clinging to his lapel. But she couldn't. And he couldn't. He was involved with another woman, even though it didn't make him happy. 

But the conversation on the night after the regatta she kept in her memory in a special place. In fact, it was from that moment that she realized that her feelings were mutual and began counting down a possible love story. And although she always thought that love is a series of romantic acts and special moments between people, and that night she realized that love is just a mutual understanding and trust that you are connected like a silk thread. And you can read everything in his eyes. And you can touch the heart of a loved one even from a distance. And you can be silent in the presence of each other, but leave the room with the feeling that this was the most beautiful conversation. 

That conversation was about that. 

Why didn't she stop him or catch up with him? Things could have been different. It would be possible to rewrite history… And as she drifted off to sleep, she would step slowly toward him in the dim candlelight of Tom's office, holding his fascinated eyes, folding her hands over his chest and standing on tiptoe, touching her lips to his… At least in her sleep, she could do it. 

And in the morning she woke up with the feeling of losing something important, close and dear. And for half a day she wandered through the woods and fields in search of solitude, cherishing the image of Mr. Sidney Parker in her mind. She missed him terribly. It was as if they had parted only yesterday. 

The book in her hands had not moved the bookmark to other pages, and her gaze, looking into the distance, seemed to expect to see someone on the hill rushing towards the house. But nothing ever happens in Willingden…

It was at this point that Alison found Charlotte. Her sister put her arm around her shoulders and also looked sadly into the distance.

"Are you thinking of him again, Charlotte?"

"No. I don't remember, I think. To remember, a person must be forgotten. And it's not. He's always on my mind. But last night and today I feel a certain sense of unease. It's like something's about to happen and I don't know if it's good or bad…"

"Let's go to lunch, Charlotte. Let's not keep the others waiting. And then - " and Alison took her sister's hand and started walking toward the house. – And after that, you and I will go to the village, choose the most beautiful fruits for mom's preparations, and prepare the most delicious pie for dinner."

"Allright," Charlotte said, trying to smile. "I really need a distraction."

The lunch was as fun and peaceful as it is possible to be in a house where 12 children live. After that, Charlotte and Alison took their baskets, put on their coats and hats, and went to the village. The drive back and forth was brightened by conversation, and the stay in the village was brightened by news from tenants and neighbors. It was only towards 6pm that the sisters returned home, tired and happy. 

They went to the kitchen, where the cook was preparing dinner, and having allocated themselves a cozy corner at the table, they created dough and filling for a fruit pie. After decorating it with wicker dough and various figures, the sisters entrusted the cake to the cook and gladly joined their family in the living room. 

And at the hour when the family was getting ready for dinner, Alison, answering the doorbell, met Mr. Brown, the farmer, on the threshold. This patient young man was always especially attentive to the sisters and was happy to carry out errands that could make life a little easier for the Heywood family. This time, too, Mr. Brown was on his way back to town, and after passing the post office and collecting his letters, he also asked if there was anything for the family from Willingden. 

"Mom, Dad! Mr. Brown has kindly delivered the evening post!" She sang in her melodious voice as she returned to the dining room and showed off a stack of letters. And then she started to look at the envelopes in a little more detail. "Oh, Charlotte! There's a message for you, too, " and she handed it carelessly to her sister. 

"How unusual," Charlotte said, turning the folded envelope over in her hands. The sender was not specified - only the mailing address "London, Bedford Place" and a sealing wax seal with the letter "P". The handwriting was smooth and precise, as if the owner had spent a lot of time in a spelling class and still kept up a lively correspondence without losing his skills. 

Bedford place is the residence of the Parkers. The seal with the initials said so, too. The handwriting was definitely not Tom's – she had gone through his letters and papers many times during the summer at Sanditon, and she had learned the elder Mr. Parker's writing style well. Nor did the letter belong to Mary's hand – she had only heard from her that morning, and Mary was in Sanditon by the time it was sent. Diana? Then why didn't she give her name when she sent it? And a sense of unease overtook Charlotte when she realized who the letter might be from. He wouldn't compromise her by giving her his name in case the letter ended up in someone else's hands. But what could he write to her? and why had she heard from him just as he was relentlessly filling her thoughts?

She wanted to open the envelope immediately and find out the contents. Instead, she smiled, put the letter on the dresser, said she would read it later, and sat down at the table.

The time dragged on for an incredibly long time. And the little scrap of paper on the dresser caught Charlotte's eye again and again. She was burning with impatience and at the same time afraid to open it. It was only when her father got up from the table that she decided to finish the meal, too. She stole to the dresser, picked up the letter, and left the room as quietly as possible. Turning the corner of the dining room, she opened the seal in the hallway and glanced at the letter that ended with the signature:

"I will love you forever.  
Sidney Parker."

And under the weight of his confession, Charlotte sobbed and fainted.

\---

Meanwhile, Sidney Parker's carriage was being carried by brisk, fresh horses in the direction of Willingden. As planned, they drove fast and had already changed horses three times, stopping at inns for no more than 15 minutes. At the last station, they clarified the road and lit the lights. Willingden was only an hour and a half away. 

The lateness of the hour and the sense of unease had done their work, and Sidney was a little limp and relaxed. All the events of the past week weighed heavily on his crying, and the bad sleep that had accompanied him in recent days had clouded his thoughts. But it was impossible to sleep. It's too early! First, make sure she's all right, and then you can think about a place to sleep. And leaning wearily on his cane he remembered his journey in the night with Charlotte… The way he'd looked at her furtively after the revelation of his insensitivity. How concerned he was for her safety, ordering her to stay in the carriage in the Drury Lane area. And how she had scolded him for "boarding-house," when for the first time he felt truly ashamed of his debauched way of life, and of what a scoundrel he must have looked in the eyes of a young girl. One glance from her was enough to light the way for him to a better life and a truest self, gradually extracting from him the deeply immured young man he thought was buried in Antigua. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the carriage stopping. And a moment later the coachman opened the carriage door and said only the word "Willingden." And with a precise movement, Sidney Parker grabbed his cane and hurried out of the carriage.

Not daring to go into the courtyard and wake up the owners with the clatter of hooves on the pavement, the carriage stopped at the old fortress wall. Sidney took a few steps toward the house and was glad to see that the lights were still on in the windows. In the candlelight, silhouettes could be seen in the windows. As he neared the house, he could already hear muffled voices. The house was definitely awake. 

He looked at his watch – it was almost midnight. Did he have the right to intrude at this hour? 

He went to the door and hesitated as the clock on the church tower in the distance struck midnight. After listening to the fight to the end, he exhaled and still raised his cane to knock on the door. At that moment, the door opened abruptly and a stunned Charlotte appeared in the doorway. All he had time to appreciate was her incredibly large eyes looking straight into his soul, and the next moment he was catching her limp body on the threshold.


	9. The midnight guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than usual. But the structure of the plot is such that some actions take place in parallel, so i did not divide them into different chapters.   
> Well, we are moving towards the final step by step.  
> Thank you for your comments. I am ready to answer your questions.

"I have no peace! I need some air!" Charlotte sobbed, wiping away a tear, and stood up abruptly. the walls were pressing down on her, and despair was brewing in her soul. 

Sidney Parker is dead! How awful! How to continue to live and what to hope for? How to deal with such a loss? So many unanswered questions. All her wildest worries had always been about his unhappy life, but never had she thought that Sidney Parker might just ... die. 

"Where are you going? It's late and dark!" Mrs. Heywood exclaimed, laying down her embroidery. 

Her sensible daughter, Charlotte, was clearly not herself today. And although Mrs. Heywood had tactfully folded the letter after the incident and put it aside without reading it, she knew that the secret of her daughter's behavior lay in it. But she would not press and pry, and wisely wait until Charlotte herself wanted to share her experiences in her. 

"I don't care, I need some air. I need to be alone. I'm sorry, but this is unbearable!" She almost ran from the living room to the hall, hurriedly putting on her coat and wasting no time on the buttons. 

"Lottie, come back!" Her mother called after her, and looked reproachfully at Mr. Heywood. He hurriedly stood up and took long strides towards the door. 

The clock in the tower was striking 12 when Charlotte jerked open the door and suddenly froze on the threshold. He heard a small cry and saw his daughter slump lifelessly to the floor… Suddenly hands caught her from falling, and a worried-looking gentleman appeared in the doorway. 

So Charlotte fainted for the second time that day. This has never happened before. Of all his children, she was the least likely to be dramatic and could only faint from an incredibly strong shock. Whoever this gentleman is, he and his daughter are definitely acquainted. He called her name, studying her face carefully, then scooped her up in his arms and walked into the hall. There was a silent question in his eyes. Without further ado, the man with the burden in his arms walked past his host into the drawing-room, and Mr. Heywood could not help thinking that the stranger had every right to do so. 

Sidney gently lowered Charlotte to the sofa and sat down next to her on one knee, hastily taking off his hat. 

"Help me!" He asked clearly, calmly, and a little wearily, and looked around at the people in the room. 

"Of course," said Mrs. Heywood, as if roused from a trance. She was at her daughter's side in an instant, leaning over the back of the sofa to study her face. "Alison, smelling salts!" and the hostess held out her right hand invitingly.

A shadow detached itself from the wall and ran to the fireplace. Alison handed her mother the smelling salts and looked at the stranger curiously. Tall, slender, expressive, noble... in a word, flawless. It was clear what her sister saw in Sidney Parker - and Alison had no doubt that it was him. 

Mr. Heywood closed the front door and returned wearily to the living room. A worried man, still gripping his cane tightly, stood close to the sofa, trying to catch the slightest movement of Charlotte. 

The father of the family glared at the stranger as if assessing him. tall, stately, fashionable, noble. A dangerous combination! His manner suggested that he knew his worth. Good posture, head held high, even despite the severity of the situation. This person did not give up before difficulties and could cope with any problem. His well-cut coat and soft draperies of fabric spoke of good wealth, but the color scheme of the suit and the lack of flashy decor reflected modesty, concentration and common sense. In a word, "thoroughbred", if you speak the local farmer's language. So what was this "thoroughbred" man doing here in Willingden?

Feeling the gaze on him, Sidney turned in Mr. Heywood's direction and realized the horror of the situation. He not only broke into the house of strangers, carried their daughter in his arms, but still did not introduce himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said awkwardly. "Let me introduce myself. Sidney Parker. And you must be Mr. Heywood?" I've been wanting to meet you for a long time." Sidney held out an open hand to his host. 

Mr. Heywood looked at the man incredulously, hesitated a moment, then offered his hand for a firm shake.

"And you must be Tom Parker's brother?"

"Yes, it is." Sidney replied, wondering whether Tom's name would have a good or bad effect on his reception by Mr. Heywood that night. the two men stood in silence, looking into each other's eyes for a little longer than either party would have liked. Fortunately, at that moment, Charlotte coughed from the smelling salts and suddenly sat up. 

Sidney sprinted toward her.

Mr. Heywood saw the change in his face as he realized that Charlotte was looking at him and recognizing him: Sidney was grinning foolishly. And looking at his daughter's reaction, Mr. Heywood realized that his little girl had grown up. Everything fell into place. He knew that there had been some drama with Charlotte at Sanditon. But he also saw that the two of them were definitely attracted to each other. Well, he and Mr. Parker would have a long talk, but he would do it for his daughter. He will be strict, but fair. However, as always. 

Sidney knelt beside Charlotte again and took her hand as if the room were empty. Her mother and Alison looked at each other, smiling.

"You're alive!" Charlotte exclaimed. "Is that true?" tears filled her eyes. 

"Charlotte, God, I'm so glad you've come to your senses. You scared me so much!"

"You, too, Mr. Parker," she said, still feeling weak and a trickle of moisture on her cheek. 

"I take it you received my letter" he lowered his eyes.

"Yes! And it was the worst thing that ever happened in my life. I thought i'd lost you. Forever." And she held out her hand to his face, wanting to feel that he was really real. 

Watching this scene, Mr. Heywood cleared his throat tactfully and, trying not to look at the couple, turned to Mrs. Heywood.

"I am glad, my dear, that Charlotte has recovered. Take her to the kitchen, give her some tea, and send her to bed. Mr. Parker and I are going to have a conversation. With a serious look at Sidney, he motioned for him to follow him into the office. 

"Of course, sir," Sidney said, standing up. He picked up his hat, caught up his cane, and with a curt nod to Charlotte, started toward Mr. Heywood. 

Alison helped Charlotte off the couch and put her arm around her shoulders as she led her toward the kitchen. On the threshold, Charlotte and Sidney turned to look at each other, unable to separate their eyes.

___

It was late, and the servants had already gone to bed. The coals were burning low in the stove, and Mrs. Hewood had put more wood on the fire to make tea. And as the three women watched the logs burn in the furnace, they watched the flames with fascination and were silent. And after putting the water to boil, each of them went about their business-tea, cups, saucers were placed on the table with precise precise movements. Silence and mischievous glances filled the kitchen. It was only after pouring chamomile tea into the cups that Mrs. Heywood decided to break the silence. 

"Miss Charlotte Heywood, tell your poor mother, who is this handsome man who carried you so briskly into the house?" Mrs. Heywood was intrigued, but she tried to keep her tone casual. 

"Oh... this is Mr. Sidney Parker. Brother of Mr. Tom Parker. Middle brother, " she clarified before hiding her face behind a cup of tea. 

"I can't believe you didn't even mention him in your stories about Sanditon!" Her mother's eyes widened in surprise.

"Well, when i was staying at Sanditon, he stayed at the hotel and I didn't see much of him. He wasn't part of the news about the city until" and with a grimace, she continued. "Fire…"

"He's quite nice and considerate, isn't he, Alison? And he looks like a prince from a fairy tale." And taking her daughter's hand confidentially, Mrs. Heywood said: "Tell me everything, Charlotte. I can see that there is more to these events than a superficial acquaintance."

And with a sigh, Charlotte told her everything briefly, leaving out only the meeting in the bay, their night chase together in London, and the magical kiss. 

"So he was going to propose to you at the ball?" Her mother asked in surprise, and Alison made a sound of approval: it was the most detailed thing her sister had ever told her about Sidney Parker. 

"Yes, I believe he was going to do it. Unfortunately, we were interrupted. And then there was this terrible fire. And then ... he had to take care of the family's problems and ... get engaged to a rich bride." Even now, the mention of Eliza made Charlotte's heart ache, and she fell silent, staring at the wall in a detached way.   
"Anyway," she continued after a thoughtful pause, "He went back to London, and I went home to Willingden, quite sure that I would never see him again. And I tried not to think about him, knowing it was hopeless. And this evening I received his farewell letter. He decided to write to me only thinking that he would not live to see the morning. And it was terrible! It shocked me so much! But I'm glad he's alive and that he's all right."

Charlotte took another sip of tea, trying to pretend that it is quiet. But the storm inside her didn't allow her to hide her emotions, so she nervously clattered her cup on the saucer and jumped up from the table:

"Oh, my God, I can't sit on the sidelines while Dad ... tortures him!" Charlotte began to pace the floor along the table. 

"But you must, Charlotte." Her mother looked at her slyly. "You know your father only wants the best for you. Sit down." And she pulled her daughter by the hand, and, seating her in a chair, took out a comb and began to comb Charlotte's hair. This always helped to calm the children, relax and distract them from their thoughts.   
"You should be more reserved, Charlotte."

"Since when do we have any demands for restraint at home?" Charlotte teased, looking into her sister's amused eyes. 

"Well, sooner or later I'd have to tell you girls about those rules, too. You grow up. And soon ... you can leave these protective walls. And there, outside the house, a completely different world and different rules. I think you know what I mean, Charlotte." And the mother leaned forward a little to look at her daughter's face. "A lot of things in this life are decided by men. You must trust your father. And Mr. Parker, if you really want him to be your husband."

"Mamaaaa..." said Charlotte, confused. "I'm not sure that's what Mr. Parker came here for. I do not know if the circumstances that forced him to save Sanditon in a very drastic way have changed. It may well be that his arrival today is just an attempt to intercept a letter with sad news... " Charlotte continued evasively, but in her heart she hoped that Sidney had arrived at the house that night for another reason. 

"My dear, how can he be here for any other reason? He's madly in love with you! He looked at you like that while you were fainting." Her conspiratorial tone amused Alison again. "Oh, I don't doubt his intentions for a second." She winked at Alison.

"Now tell me, does he have any unmarried friends who are equally pleasant-looking and well-mannered? I'd like you to introduce Alison to some of them."

"Mamaaaa..." Alison moaned this time, and a blush covered her cheeks.

"What? My concern is quite natural! I have 6 daughters, and Willingden is quite a secluded place!"

___

In the meantime, the two men, having closed themselves in the room, filled their glasses and sat down opposite each other. The small, cozy office, with its carved oak paneling and sturdy, slightly old-fashioned furniture, was an island of peace and quiet for Mr. Heywood. As the father of a large family, he was particularly in need of privacy, and the many books arranged on shelves that almost completely covered the wall made for excellent company. The books spoke as he read them, but they also easily interrupted their dialogue when he was about to slam them shut. And only the older children dared to look into his abode, and he was always glad of their quiet spiritual company. 

Sidney Parker was the first alien in his office. He glanced around the book wall and glided back to Mr. Heywood's eyes:

"Now I see where your daughter's love of books comes from," he said, smiling sheepishly and taking a sip from his glass.

Mr. Parker steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair:

"Mr. Parker, you seem to know my daughter very well. What is the extent of your acquaintance and what are your intentions?"

The question is not in the eyebrow, but in the eye. But Sidney decided to tell the truth and not hide anything. He had nothing to hide!

"Mr. Heywood, I won't beat around the bush. I love Charlotte and I have the most honest intentions. I hope to get your consent to the marriage."

"And you're so startled that you couldn't wait until morning?" Mr. Heywood certainly wasn't trying to make it easy for him. 

"Yes and no, Mr. Heywood. I raced through the night to prevent the great misfortune that might result from Miss Heywood's misplaced letter from me." He lowered his eyes and seemed to look inward. "Honestly, I didn't think until yesterday that I would ever have the chance to ask her to marry me, but last night circumstances fortunately changed."

"Tell me what happened, Mr. Parker." Charlotte's father handed him a refilled glass.

And Sidney told it all from the beginning. About how slowly he burned, revealing Charlotte more and more with each meeting, how he appreciated her intelligence, care and responsibility, how he realized her positive influence on him and realized that she saw through him and he did not need to pretend anymore. He told how he realized that she was the most important person in his life, and that his only desire from now on was to take care of her and make her life easier and happier. He also told about his hopes of proposing to her at the Sanditon ball, how they had been interrupted, and how it had ended in a fire. And the difficult words about being engaged to Eliza to save his brother, though not easily given, were still part of his story. He said that every day when he was separated from her, he experienced a mental pain that was a thousand times greater than the physical pain. 

Sidney mentioned the meeting with the Russian player, which gave him the hope of getting rid of him, in passing. He was happy to jump at the idea that promised him deliverance, whatever the outcome… And when Sidney told him about Bering's noble and strange behavior, he saw his companion exhale and relax a little. In the end, everything ended well. Tom's debt is almost paid off, Sanditon is saved, the family's reputation is intact, and the termination of the deal with Eliza is a done deal.

"How could you do something so reckless?" Mr. Heywood wondered. "Do you have a gambling problem?" Inquisitive and he looked at Sidney. 

"I'll never sit at a card table again!" short – tempered exclaimed Sidney. 

"I won't ask you to make such a sacrifice, Mr. Parker."

"These are not sacrifices, Mr. Heywood, but common sense. I took a risk just for the one chance I had to be with Charlotte. I was lucky. Everything went well. But I am fully aware of the consequences this could have had. But in retrospect, I would have done it again if it had brought me one step closer to Charlotte. And now, if she says "yes", I will be the happiest person and will strive to be more responsible, worthy of her and striving to make her life easier and better. 

"I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Parker. I see that you are a worthy man." Mr. Heywood rubbed his chin wearily and continued. "I will give my consent, but only after I see the official notice of the cancellation of your previous engagement in the Times. I hope you understand my decision?" he held out his hand to his future son-in-law.

"Completely," Sidney said, holding out his hand in return. 

"Now, let me show you and your men to the inn. If you had arrived before dark, we could have arranged for you here, but i'm afraid that's not possible right now. The rooms are not ready."

And like a silent reproach, the clock on the mantelpiece struck 2, reminding Sidney of his behavior…

The men went out into the yard, and Mr.Heywood waved his hand several times in the direction of the exit, as if to explain the way and instruct, and then crossed the yard in the direction of the stables.

As Sidney waited, he looked around absently and smiled modestly. And in the light of the lantern above the door, through the windows of the second-floor corridor leading to the back of the house, where the bedrooms were located, Charlotte saw this smile and smiled back. He was all right. His father hadn't intimidated him. And judging by the fact that her father had disappeared into the stables, he would escort Sidney to the inn. If the conversation between the two men had ended badly, Sidney would have stormed out the door and her father wouldn't have taken him to the hotel. 

A few minutes later, Mr. Heywood came out of the stable with a saddled horse. And through the window, Charlotte watched the two most important men in her life walk away together into the night.


	10. Storm clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, we're at the finish line. There are only 2 chapters left and Sidney is going to Sanditon today, but before that he needs to meet Charlotte

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Compared to the previous chapters, where there was a lot of action, this chapter is a little boring and squat, but it was important for me to ground Sidney a little, otherwise he would plow a snow-covered field in a rush of his energy 😉

Sidney's morning was hectic. After the night drive to the local hotel, he and Mr. Heywood discussed the possible time of the morning visit. Sidney knew that at 11 he would see Charlotte and be able to talk to her!

He had been up since 7 a.m. and was now just pacing the room. Time was playing games with him again, slowing him down. 

He stayed up most of the night, tossing and turning in his bed, wondering why sleep wasn't coming to him. Can something go wrong, or is it just that a bed in a provincial hotel is not comfortable? How's Charlotte?" Was she asleep, or was she also thinking about him? How is her health-she was very pale yesterday. 

He washed his face, looking vexedly at himself in the mirror – two days ' stubble covered his face. There were no shaving supplies. Cologne, too. He wasn't planning a trip when he left the house yesterday. But I was immensely glad that I could at least change my underwear. The heat in Antigua taught him to carry a change of clothes in a carriage and when he returned to London, he kept this habit: in a travel trunk in a drawer under the seat of the carriage, he always had 2-3 fresh shirts, trousers and even ties. All this was very useful to him this morning. 

The knot on his tie didn't fit. He had been fiddling with it for 10 minutes, but the ends of the tie still hung lifeless, and the knot shifted to the left. He groaned and let his hands fall to his sides. He was supposed to make a positive impression on Charlotte's family, but everything this morning seemed to be against him. 

He went downstairs and ordered Breakfast for himself and the coachman, and then went outside to breathe in the fresh country air.

Mr. Stratton was bright and cheerful this morning, as if he hadn't been on the box all day and hadn't gone to bed until 3 a.m. He greeted his master kindly and informed him that the carriage had been inspected and put in order in the morning: the dust of the road had left traces on the carriage, but the stones had not managed to knock the wheels off the axle, and the horses still wore four horseshoes. You can leave at any time. 

After sharing their breakfast, the men went about their business. Mr. Stratton to the stables, and Sidney to explore the local village. 

The study did not take much time, because the length of the village center did not exceed 30 houses. There were shops and shops here, but Sidney never found a local Barber. Shaking his head in annoyance, he realized that he was destined to come to Charlotte in a shabby state. 

He was just on his way to the outskirts of the village when the bells rang and the locals moved in flocks towards the Church. Sidney walked slowly in the same direction, arousing the growing curiosity of the locals. They looked him up and down, whispered about him, heard the enthusiastic voices of girls behind him, and men threw incredulous and even belligerent glances in his direction. It's hard to be an outsider in a new place. Trying to ignore the gossip, Sidney continued to survey the hills, richly painted in autumn colors, and his feet led him step by step to the Church. 

Why did he come to the Church? He had no intention of joining the service. And the building, although reflecting the deep antiquity, could hardly serve as an object of cultural heritage. And looking around, he realized that the choice for him was not great: to go to inspect the facades and stained glass windows or to the cemetery. Grimacing, he clasped his hands behind his back in embarrassment and went to study the merits of the local architecture, idly looking around and striking an almost marching pace. 

He walked around the entire building and returned to the entrance again, when an unexpected picture appeared to his eyes: a large family of 14 people was approaching the building. Mr. Heywood on the arm of his wife. Behind them, the older children led the younger ones by the hand. And only the two middle sons were left to themselves and chatted animatedly about something.

Sidney knew that Charlotte had a large family, but he had never imagined the true scale. What he saw startled him, but it pleased him. And looking at Charlotte leading her mini-copy by the hand, Sidney warmed up inside and smiled shyly at his thoughts. 

Mr. and Mrs. Heywood were standing at the entrance, waiting for all the children to enter the Church, when the two older misses Heywood, having sent the younger sisters to their mother, separated from the group and headed in the direction of Sidney. Mr. Heywood gave a curt nod of greeting and disappeared into the Church, letting the young man out of the door. 

"Good morning, ladies." Sidney bowed gallantly and gave to sisters a genuine smile.

"Good morning. Will you join us at the Church, Mr. Parker?" Charlotte asked lightly, coming so close to Sidney that the figure of the man standing at the entrance moved toward them.

"I don't think so. I have already displeased the locals with my presence." Sidney said irritably, and looked down. 

"Do not take their increased attention to your account." Charlotte replied with a playful smile on her lips. "In Willingden, any visitor becomes an object of intense attention." And Charlotte, intuitively raising her hands, smoothed the knot on his tie with a light movement, making everything look right and dignified. 

He smiled gently at her outburst, and felt the warmth inside him again: this natural, almost homely gesture on her part seemed to erase all the turmoil of the morning. No one (except his mother) had ever helped Sydney with his wardrobe, and sweet Charlotte had put everything in its place with one seductive move. 

"Thank you, miss Heywood. It's been a bit... hectic this morning. My thoughts were not on that and my tie did not give in to me. You saved my day." Alison giggled beside him. 

"Mr. Parker, you can always count on my help" Charlotte began, but Alison tugged at her arm.

"Mr. Parker, I'm sorry, but we have to go." Alison said apologetically. 

"Of course. I dare not detain you. See you later. Good day."

"Good day" the girls said, and headed for the Church.

The man standing at the entrance waited until the sisters entered the door and looked at Sidney with a dissatisfied and appraising look, but when he met his eyes, he was confused and also disappeared into the aisle. 

Sidney stared thoughtfully at the door for a moment, then turned and headed back to the hotel.

___

After paying his bills, Sidney got into the carriage at ten minutes to eleven and signaled to Mr. Stratton. The carriage moved towards the Heywood estate, passing along the 30 facades of the houses of the local village. Closer to the exit, Sidney again noticed the strange man in the window, whom he had seen at the Church. Again the man looked at him with discontent and disbelief, as if trying to burn the carriage with his eyes. It was a look of desperation and quiet anger that Sidney had seen in James Stringer before and understood all too well the nature of his origins. He felt jealous himself, seeing Charlotte's casual interaction with Stringer at cricket. But the look of a local stranger brought to mind Eliza's question on the day of the regatta about whether Charlotte liked the boy in her village? And a pang of jealousy struck him again. 

So, it looks like he has a rival. But it will not allow a small formality to affect the decision-making process. He should be honest and open with Charlotte today, tell her about all the current arrangements and expected deadlines for documentary evidence, and beg her to wait for his return. He can't lose her!

Despair washed over him again, conjuring up images of him losing Charlotte again and again, and her hand slipping from his. It was only when he touched the knot of his tie as a talisman that he exhaled and calmed down. What he'd seen in Charlotte's eyes this morning was real: she loved him! And no one can convince a girl in love that she loves someone else. And as he knew, Charlotte was determined to marry only for love. Nor did Mr. Heywood strike me as a domineering father who would force his daughter to marry against her will. 

The carriage turned into the courtyard, and a moment later Stratton opened the carriage door.

The door to the house was already open, and there was a crowd of children in the doorway, with Mr. and Mrs. Heywood standing behind them.

"Welcome, Mr. Parker," and the host extended his hand to his guest.

The two men shook hands and went into the house, where a boy of 12 years old took Sidney's cane and hat with care, and a girl of six years old took his hand trustingly and pulled him into the living room. 

In the living room, fragrant tea was poured into cups and the whole family was crowded around the large oak table in a cheerful and relaxed manner. And this afternoon's meal was so different from what he was used to! No ostentatious China for a limited number of people, as is customary in London – instead, mismatched cups from different sets, including fine work, decorated the table and everyone could choose a cup to taste. Even the smallest Haywood children reached out their fragile hands for large cups of tea, but no one was worried that the children would break anything. They just lived, loved, trusted, and didn't look back. Something familiar, recognizable and easily felt, but a little forgotten, as if from childhood, was felt in all this atmosphere. And as he picked up his Cup of tea, Sidney realized that he felt... at home.

He was artfully drawn into the conversation without being bored and feeling like an outsider. And each Heywood asked sincere questions about his interests and Hobbies, as well as what they themselves were interested in knowing. In half an hour, Sidney not only talked about his business, his home in London, and decent London entertainment, sports clubs, gunsmiths, and theaters, but also about manicured gardens and parks, bookstores, tailors, and even dolls. And although he answered the questions honestly, looking into the eyes of the questioner, his gaze kept turning to Charlotte in an attempt to understand HOW she accepted new information about him. He longed to hear her question, but she seemed to read it like an open book without question. 

When tea time was over, the younger children ran outside and there were only 7 people left in the living room. They certainly weren't given a chance to be alone…

And Alison, feeling her sister's unspeakable longing, winked at Charlotte and went to the keyboard, trying to somehow distract her parents ' attention from the couple in love. The light, melodic sound provided the background for their conversation, hiding the words and creating the illusion of privacy. 

Sidney and Charlotte went to the fire, and after exchanging deeper greetings and assurances of true affection, they threw his letter into the fire together, watching the lines eat into the flames. The past was in the past. There was only a bright future ahead of them. And revealing his true intentions, Sidney told his beloved about yesterday's conversation with her father. They will receive a blessing, but only after completing the formalities. He leaves to return to her father with the necessary paperwork and an open heart. 

He promised to tell Charlotte about his game and Bering, but later. They would have time, and he would not hide anything from her. From now on, no speculation. He appreciates her opinion and her advice. He wouldn't betray her trust. 

He was just about to take her hand when his coat was pulled insistently from the side. He leaned over to Charlotte's sister, listened carefully, and picked her up. For the rest of the time they spent talking under the cover of Alison's melody, the pair had to talk about abstract topics. 

Looking at the two of them, so involved with each other when Sidney naturally held the baby in his arms, there was no doubt that they would make a great family in the future. Both mother and father, who had been casting wary glances at the fireplace from time to time, now calmed down, and Mrs. Heywood pressed Mr. Heywood's hand confidentially.  
But time was running out and Sydney had to get going. And after another brief conversation in Mr. Heywood's office, Sidney said goodbye to his family and headed for the exit.

"I'll show you out, Mr. Parker," and Charlotte followed him out.

The carriage was no longer in the yard, and Sidney was inwardly grateful to Mr. Stratton for driving the carriage back to the road, giving him and Charlotte more time alone as they walked slowly toward the road. 

He wanted to kiss her, but two sharp eyes were watching them - Charlotte's father was standing at the entrance and was now examining his tobacco pipe in his hand with incredible interest. And what he couldn't do now, Sidney put into words, causing Charlotte to smile back shyly. 

It wasn't until she was outside the ramparts that Charlotte noticed the change in the weather. 

"Are you sure you should leave now?" she asked seriously. "I think there's a storm coming."

"I have to," he smiled gently at her. "The sooner I get a documentary confirmation, the sooner I can come back and make you a proposal of marriage. Believe me, I want nothing more than this. After so many days of sorrow, after so many trials, we deserve to be happy, right? I only ask you to wait for me" he said, looking into her eyes and holding her hand. 

Then, still feeling his father's gaze on him, he kissed her hand. 

"Your father didn't give me permission to write to you, so I'll come myself as soon as I can. I should be pleased to receive a letter from you, but I dare not ask you to do so. But you can always write to Mary, and she will tell me all your news."

The wind was getting stronger and it was getting darker in the area. Charlotte's dress fluttered in the strong wind, enveloping her curves. And swallowing, Sidney almost whispered to her, " Don't stand in the wind, Charlotte. Go inside, " and squeezing her hand in farewell, he quickly got into the carriage. 

The carriage is moved. And as she watched Sidney's carriage cross the field, Charlotte felt small and alone again, as if she had gone back to the day when Sidney had left for London after the fire. God, let it be different this time! And she stood there in the wind, mesmerized by the vanishing carriage, thinking only of when she would be able to see him again.

And the sight of this parting scene finally broke farmer Mr. Brown's heart. And as if reflecting his inner world, the first large drops of rain rolled down his cheeks, and after another 15 minutes the rain stood like a wall and the first peals of thunder appeared in the air. It rained all night, and Mr. Brown poured out glass after glass until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention and for your comments. I'm having fun writing this story and although I didn't intend to introduce any more new characters, he asked for it)


	11. Family bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sidney returns to Sanditon and finds an unexpected change in the family's life at Trafalgar house

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your attention, patience and comments. We're almost there

Sanditon greeted Sidney with sunshine. It was late afternoon, but it was still light and warm. The meadows that lined the road at the entrance to Sanditon were still lush and green. Just think, only 4 hours away, and the landscape and weather were so different from Willingden. 

Sidney slid out of the carriage and entered Trafalgar house. He greeted the footman cheerfully and slipped into the living room at a brisk pace. Tom was nowhere to be seen, and, more surprisingly, he could hear. The curtains were drawn and the house seemed to have fallen asleep. 

Looking around, Sidney was about to ask the footman where the family was, but behind him came the rapid footsteps of small feet, and a moment later his foot was caught in a tight trap of small hands.

"Uncle Sidney! Henry shouted enthusiastically, and the whole family gathered at the sound of his voice.

"Hello, Henry!" Sidney said, and lifted his nephew into his arms. "You've grown in a month!" Quite big! A genuine smile lit up the two faces.

"Sidney, what a pleasant surprise! Mary was already walking toward him with her arms outstretched.

"Sidney! Tom said enthusiastically, as always, but his eyes were filled with concern. 

Tom didn't look well at all. Dark circles under his eyes, red eyes, a haggard figure, obvious wrinkles on his usually friendly face. He lost a few pounds in weight, which turned his tall figure into a comic image, similar to don Quixote. The resemblance was further compounded by a nervous TIC that caused his head to nod frequently in moments of uncertainty, and his words to be interrupted by a stutter. Fortunately, his bout of uncertainty didn't last long, and he recovered quickly enough, putting on a friendly smile and making at least some coherent speech. 

"My dear brother, did you come alone or with Mrs. Campion?" and Tom was shaking Sidney's hand, trying to see something behind him. 

"Alone". Sidney said curtly, knowing they were going to have a difficult conversation. He would tell his brother all about it, but first he would wait for the announcement in the times and the letter from the banker. Maybe they were waiting for him in his office right now.

"Tom, is there any mail for me?" And I'd like to read the latest times.

"Of course! A couple of letters addressed to you are on the table. But don't you want to change first and get something to eat on the way? How are things in London?"

"Later, Tom!" and he went to the side of the cabinet. 

There were indeed two letters, but they were not the letters he had hoped for. A letter from the manager and a letter from Babington. There were no long-awaited letters, but it was nice to receive a note from a friend. And after reviewing the envelopes, Sidney decided to take them to his room and read them upstairs. 

It was nice to find a change of clothes and a travel shaving kit in the room. He made a note to himself that from now on, shaving supplies should also be carried in reserve in the carriage. It was important for him to look good and dignified in Charlotte's eyes, and he had no doubt that he would soon be on his way back to Willingden. 

He was turning his head in front of a small mirror, trying to assess the cleanliness of his shave, when his eyes caught an unexpected decoration in the reflection: behind him, a portrait that had previously been placed in the hall now hung on the wall. It was unusual. And slightly surprised. But he did not dwell on it, but quickly changed his clothes and went down to the dining room, where the table was hastily set for him. 

He finished his meal quickly and went to Tom's office. His brother was silent and thoughtful, and the chair seemed to absorb his emaciated body entirely. The glass of drink in his hand was half empty, but he hadn't drained it all the time Sidney had been watching him. It wasn't like Tom. And it was alarming. And deliberately flipping through yesterday's paper loudly in search of the gossip columns in the hope of seeing the announcement of the annulment of the engagement, he glanced nervously at his brother in the next chair. Tom didn't react to any other sounds and was still lost in himself.

Mary disturbed his peace by entering the study dressed for the walk.

"Tom, we're going for a walk. Will you join us?"

"What? No, my dear. I prefer to stay here today. But I think Sydney will be happy to keep you company."

He remembered that his brother was here.

"Yes, I think I'll join you, Mary." And Sidney gave her a searching look, and soon he was hastily packing up, pulling on his coat and hat, and opening the door for the Parker family to enter. 

When the children were scattered on the beach and Sidney and Mary were alone, he paused and asked her a question that bothered him:

"Mary, what's going on with Tom? He doesn't seem to be himself. I've never seen him so depressed. How long has this been happening to him?"

"Almost a month," Mary said worriedly. "It's partly my fault. I... opened his eyes to certain things, " and she glanced at Sidney. "He's ashamed, Sidney. He doesn't eat well. Almost never leaves the house, for fear of looking into the eyes of local residents. But most of all, he's ashamed... in front of you. He even asked for your portrait to be removed from the hall, saying that you were following him with your eyes and judging him. He can't bear the thought of you having to save him and the city, even though he's the big brother in the family and has to take care of his family. And now he thinks he failed and let everyone down. And the family, and the city."

They walked in silence for a while, and Sidney went over Mary's words in his head. Tom was partly right to feel guilty about what had happened. In fact, he blamed his brother for breaking up with Charlotte and proposing to Mrs. Campion. And Yes, Tom let the city, workers and locals down when he made the decision to insure the business. But that's in the past now. The situation has been corrected. You can breathe easy. And Mary, for her own peace of mind, needs to know about it.

"Mary," Sidney began quietly. "I have news... Tom's debt is paid off and you're safe. I expect a letter from the banker in London any day now, and as soon as I get it, we can meet our obligations to lady Denham and the other investors. We also have a spare capital of £ 6,000 to resume construction or at least start rebuilding the burnt-out building."

"I see," Mary said dejectedly, completely uninspired by the news. "Did Mrs. Campion sign the prenuptial agreement? And the wedding will take place soon?" there was sadness in her eyes and tone.

"This is the second news I wanted to share. There will be a wedding, but not between me and Mrs. Campion. I... I arrived today from Willingden, where I met Charlotte and her family…"

He had not finished speaking when Mary interrupted him enthusiastically and stopped abruptly:

"Sidney! It's true? Will you marry Charlotte?" and she gripped his sleeve with both hands, not intending to let go until he answered.

"Yes, it is true," and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "As soon as Mrs. Campion released me from my engagement, I was at Charlotte's, talking about marriage with her father. I expect that Charlotte will write to you soon about her news and I would like you to share it with me. Mr. Heywood has not yet given his official consent to our correspondence" he lowered his head in annoyance, kicking the sand under his feet. "But he said he would consent to the marriage when I gave him official evidence of my freedom. Oh, my God, I'm looking forward to these notifications! But there are no letters from the banker or the advertisement in the newspaper yet…"

"But they will!" Mary rubbed his shoulder approvingly. "I'm so happy for you and Charlotte, Sidney. It's so right! You're a wonderful couple. This is great news! Tom will be delighted, I'm sure!"

And in the evening, in the quiet of the study, by candlelight, the brothers talked about marriage. Tom, somewhat revived after dinner, where Mary was pleased to note the restoration of his appetite, was drinking his third glass of Bourbon and relaxing a little. He sincerely regretted not joining the family for the walk, and sincerely confessed to his brother that he felt guilty. 

"To tell you the truth, Sidney, now that I have to lock myself in the house and not participate in construction projects, I spend time with my family and am surprisingly much happier. But the burden of debt weighs heavily on me, and I dread the moment when my family idyll will be over, and creditors will come to describe the furniture. And if it were not for this circumstance, I would be truly happy. I was lucky to have Mary. She is a woman with a heart of gold who loves and appreciates me no matter what. She gave me four wonderful children. She supports me in every situation, even though I don't deserve it. I let her down, condemning her to gossip and gossip, and like a coward I'm afraid to stick my nose out into the street. I'm ashamed that I was so useless. I am ashamed that I have failed the city, the workers, lady Denham… But even worse, I failed Mary, my family, and ... you, Sidney."

"Tom, don't…"

"Sidney, let me finish... I've been rethinking a lot in the last few weeks, and I've come to understand what true family happiness means. And the more I think about it, the more I see the contrast with... Mrs. Campion. Tell me, Sidney, that you're marrying for love, not money? Because if you've sacrificed your happiness for me, I won't survive it " and Tom's worried, almost frantic look froze on Sidney, trying to get into his very soul. 

"Tom, don't doubt that when I marry, it will be for love." Sidney took a sip from his glass, trying to hide his emotions. He really wanted to tell his brother all the news, but he couldn't. He must wait for confirmation to be sure that he is not misleading Tom, because in this state of emotional roller coaster Tom may not survive. After all, there is nothing worse than a given, and then again selected hope…

"Let's go to bed, Tom. Tomorrow will be a new day, which may bring good news. " He stood up, put his empty glass on the mantelpiece, and gave his brother his hand to help him up. "Perhaps you'd like to take a swim in the far Bay tomorrow morning?" The water is not very cold yet and it will help you cheer up."

"Yes... Yes, I think it's quite possible," Tom answered uncertainly and abstractedly, and trudged upstairs. 

Sidney stood by the fireplace for a while, looking at the dusty mock-up of the city. Without a dream and a job, his brother was fading before his eyes, consumed by sadness, guilt and financial problems.

\---

In the morning, the weather in Willingden improved. The sun was shining again. And the sense of lightness that had woken up early in the morning with Charlotte had accompanied her business all morning. 

She was happy to write a letter to Mary, telling her the most exciting news about her and Sidney, and dispelling any fears that something might go wrong. She shared her excitement and expectation, her awe and gratitude for the support, because Mary knew better than anyone about the affection that had grown stronger in the summer under her roof. But she could not be so frank with Mary as to tell her all her feelings and desires. So she took a blank sheet of paper and wrote a separate letter to Sidney, enclosing it in the envelope of Mary's letter. In this way, this Trojan horse will not violate decency, but will convey to each recipient what she wanted to say. And with a dreamy smile, Charlotte sealed the envelope with sealing wax, and then took a refreshing walk to the village to the post office. 

On the way back, still in a perfectly dreamy mood, Charlotte was walking across the field when Mr. Brown suddenly caught up with her. At first, he followed her. Then he sped up a little and just walked beside her in silence. His presence made her tense and uneasy, causing a frown to crease between her eyes. 

The alcohol was still bubbling in him from the previous day's libations, and Mr. Brown, driven by his passions, decided to take a desperate step. 

"Miss Heywood, will you marry me?" He blurted out without any preparation or small talk, and stopped abruptly.

To say that Charlotte was surprised by this statement is an understatement. She opened her mouth to say something and automatically took three more steps before answering. For some reason, she wanted to stay away from this man. She treated him politely as a neighbor, but she never thought of him as a man. Especially now that Sidney was in her life.

"Mr. Brown, my heart is busy." She answered with surprising calm and confidence, only pity for him softening her tone. 

"Is it this fashionable gentleman? Cost him one day to come into town and you can easily down to his feet! What attracted you to him? Money? Title?" he said dismissively, almost spitting out the last words.

"You're not being fair, Mr. Brown. And you don't know anything about Mr. Parker! I accept his heart not because of his wealth, connections, ambitions or sea bathing, but because I love him! We've known each other for almost six months. He is the most responsible, noble, honest, loving, stubborn, sensitive and amazing person I know!" Oh, God, how easily the words of praise for Sidney came out of his mouth. She definitely loved him! "We've been through a lot, and it's not for you to judge me. I don't have to justify myself to you at all! Why on earth do you blame me for my decision?" anger was already boiling in her. She wouldn't let anyone interfere with her relations with Sidney.

I've been waiting for you for 4 long months!" He definitely raised his voice at her.

"I never asked you to do that, and I never encouraged you! I never imagined you had feelings. And if I'd known that, I'd have cut the contact between us."

"But I love you, miss Heywood!" He moaned desperately, running to her and grabbing her arm.

She pulled away abruptly and backed away from him, shaking her head. 

"You should not say such words to me, Mr. Brown. You're drunk. You need to come to your senses. Go back home. And don't seek me out, or I'll be forced to tell my father about this incident."

Mr. Brown stood shamed in the grass, clutching his hat and cursing himself for his lack of restraint. 

And when Charlotte had cooled down a little she added:

"Goodbye, Mr. Brown. I wish you happiness. But I'm not your soulmate. And in time, you will understand it."

And Charlotte turned and walked briskly toward the house. Thank God, the roof of the manor was already visible on the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we have the last chapter left for Sidlotte HEA. But in addition to the promised, we are waiting for another unexpected meeting and hints at the storylines of other characters. The final chapter will appear over the weekend. Thanks for your attention.


	12. Probability theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we are getting closer to the finish line. Thank you to all those who were with me and with the heroes in this race to the point of HEA. Thank you for your suggestions and comments. I hope you enjoyed this story and that it took your mind off the rigors of everyday life while we wait and fight for season 2.

There is such a word "Wait". Patience. The seat. Doing nothing. Glancing at the clock. A throbbing, nagging sense of futility, helplessness, and the impossibility of distraction. 

Three days passed in painful suspense. There were no letters. And publications in the newspaper, too. And the darkest thoughts crept into Sidney's head. Had he been deceived? What if both Baring and Elise had never thought to keep their promises? It was all too good to be true! What was he thinking? He had promised Charlotte that he would return, he had promised her father that he would bring proof, and how would he face them if he couldn't do it? 

He wanted to shout at the top of my voice. And he wanted to fight. Instead, he would come to the beach and plunge into the cooling water again and again. 

The water gave him a sense of relief, but not for long. When the waves didn't cover his head, the restless thoughts came back to her again and again. What? If? How? Why? And all this is mixed with a sense of heaviness and betrayal. What if he'd failed her again?

Today was no exception. He was coming out of the water in a secluded cove and clearly remembered being caught off guard by a young, beautiful girl who was clearly shocked by what she saw, but did not show it, bravely holding on to her sense of dignity and not refusing to compromise with him. Thoughts of Charlotte spurred feelings and commitments. If the long-awaited news did not arrive by tonight, he would go to London tomorrow morning to investigate. 

On his way back to Trafalgar house, he saw the mail coach pull away from the Crown. So the morning mail has already been delivered. He went inside and asked if there were any letters for the Parkers, but was told that the mail was still being sorted: if he waited a few minutes, he would be given letters, if there were any. 

After paying for the times, Sidney stepped aside and leaned against the bar. Ignoring the big front-page news, he quickly flipped through the newspaper to the gossip columns and skimmed through the announcements of exhibitions, receptions, and the return to London of some gentlemen, stopping his attention on the long-awaited announcement.

"Mrs. Eliza Campion and Mr. Sidney Parker, by mutual consent, announce the termination of their engagement»

He closed his eyes blissfully and took a deep breath. My head was spinning. He's free! And now he can make a formal offer to Charlotte. This was the most wonderful news! And he was almost running out of the Crown into the street in the direction of Trafalgar house when the innkeeper called out to him from the doorway:

"Mr. Parker, your mail. Will you only take your own letters or letters for the whole family?"

Sidney reluctantly stopped and forced a smile.

"Thank you. I'll take all the letters." He extended a friendly hand, accepting a stack of envelopes. 

There were a lot of letters this time. Three letters for Tom. Six letters for himself from business associates. The long-awaited letter from the Bank, which he was ready to open immediately, if not for the letter that particularly caught his attention. Charlotte's Letter. More precisely, two letters from Charlotte – to him and Mary. This time, she wrote to him directly and it struck a spark of flame in his soul, spreading warmth through his body. And eagerly open the envelope right there on the street, he eagerly caught the eyes of the next line:

"Dear Sidney,

I thought for a long time about writing or not writing about it, but I decided that there should be no secrets between us. 

On Sunday, as I was taking my letters to the post office, our neighbor, Mr. Brown, caught up with me in the field. He was very persistent in trying to get my attention. He made me an offer and was rejected. 

Mr. brown's attacks and prejudices against you so strongly reminded me of my own opinion only a few months ago. How wonderfully everything has changed! How could I ever think of you like that? You are the most amazing, honest, caring and visionary person I have ever met. Although I am still quite naive, young and self-confident, I believe that it is only with you that I truly grow and experience life. I still don't know much and really haven't seen much in this life. You will need patience, humility, and diligence in raising me to be a lady of the world in accordance with your ideas and ideals. But I assure you that I am ready to do it if it will make you happy. 

Come back soon!

I miss you.

I love you.

Charlotte.»

He began to read with an uneasiness that grew as he went deeper into the text of the letter. From the second paragraph, his heart was ready to jump out of his chest, and the fear that Charlotte had agreed to the neighbor's proposal covered him so that he forgot to breathe. And only further recognition poured balm on his wounded heart, binding all the pieces together and bringing them back to life. Charlotte loves him! And she misses him! This was the most touching news! And he certainly has no intention of changing anything about her and will be proud to represent her in society as she is. And let everyone else be jealous!

He put Charlotte's letter in his pocket: he would come back to it later and read it over and over again. And now, pay attention to the letter from the banker. And as he opened the letter, he took a quick look at another great piece of news. Well, the stars were on his side today. 

Armed with a newspaper and a banker's letter, Sidney entered Trafalgar house with inspiration. He called out to Tom from the doorway and went into The study. He was about to say that he had good news for his brother when the door opened again and Diana burst into the house with Arthur on a leash. 

"Is that true, brother? You broke off your engagement to Mrs. Campion?" without further, Diana shook the paper in her hand, and from the shocked look in her eyes and the grip on the paper sheets, it was clear that she had been clutching the paper all the way from London. 

"Yes, it is. I have broken off my engagement to Mrs. Campion, and now that you are aware of it, I can assure you that I am happy with this decision!"

"But how..." Tom began uncertainly, not knowing how to approach the question of money. He understood that Sidney should not pay for his sins and marry for money. Right now, his feelings were mixed: part of him was glad that Sydney wouldn't have to marry without love, and part of him was writhing in panic at the overwhelming debt that was once again hanging over his head.

At the sound of voices, Mary came down, and seeing her in the doorway, Sidney smiled at her in greeting and continued.

"Now that everyone is here, I can make a public announcement. I am free from Mrs. Campion's pretensions. The engagement is broken. The notice came out in the times today–" – I also received confirmation from the banker this morning of the transfer of an amount of 80,000 pounds to the account. This is enough to pay off the debt to lady Denham and other investors and resume construction."

Cheers rang through the workroom. Tom sank limply into a chair, his teeth biting into his own fist. He was startled, excited, and delighted, and did his best not to jump to his feet and jump around the office like a madman. 

Arthur, Diana, and Mary all hugged Sidney enthusiastically, shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder again and again.

When everyone had calmed down a bit, Sidney cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself, and continued:

"That's not all the news. Since I am a free man and the family debt is paid off, I can marry for love. Tomorrow morning I'm going to Willingdon and hope by evening to officially name miss Charlotte Heywood my fiancee."

"I knew it!" Arthur exclaimed, and Sidney was pulled back into a stifling embrace. 

Diana was sobbing with happiness. Mary looked at Sidney with a genuine smile, glad that everything was going as planned. Tom was slowly coming to his senses. 

A heavy weight fell from Tom's shoulders. His brother is free! The debt is miraculously repaid. Now he finally understood what Sidney had told him over the fire that night: he was really marrying for love. And as Mary said, that love was always Charlotte. One could only dream of it! And as if waking up Tom jumped up from his chair with an exclamation:

"Sidney! What wonderful news! More precisely, news. I'm very happy! Let me congratulate you, dear brother! If you need help with Charlotte's father, I'm ready to provide any support... " he fussed.

"Thank You, Tom. But I've already had a preliminary conversation with Charlotte's father. He only wants me to confirm that I'm officially free." And Sidney was lifted into the air times. Then, remembering that he had letters for his family, he handed them to Tom and handed them to Mary. 

The elder Parker began to examine the envelopes when Diana asked a question:

"Sidney, what is this bloody story? There are rumors all over London…"

Sidney interrupted her with an insistent gesture, glancing slightly at Tom, and answered carelessly.

"I don't know what you mean. I haven't been in London since last week. I don't know what's going on in London. And let London gossip stay in London. I suggest you open the champagne. We have something to celebrate! And then I must pay a visit to lady Denham."

While they were busy with the impromptu buffet, Tom opened the letters, mentally preparing to see the next bills and claims of creditors, but instead froze, reading the notice from the insurance company. After reading it, he silently pressed the paper into Sidney's chest, and seeing that Sidney was holding the paper, he took off his shaking hands. He walked unsteadily to the decanter and gulped down 3 glasses in a row.

Sidney read the letter worriedly and gave a hysterical laugh. And then, in a loud voice, he announced the contents of the letter to everyone present. 

"Dear Mr. Parker,

Rubicon Insurance company, after reviewing your request and making sure that the insurance premium for the construction projects located in the city of Sanditon is paid on time, informs you that the funds for damage coverage in the amount of 67,812 pounds have been collected and will be paid to you within 10 days from the date of notification. Please provide the current details of the service banking company that we need to contact for payment transactions»

"Tom, you did insure the case!" Sidney frowned in disbelief, running through his mind all the misfortunes that might have befallen him if the insurance notice had come after his wedding to Eliza.

"I... I don't remember it at all!" Tom exclaimed. "There were so many bills and papers in my files" Tom clutched his head. "If it weren't for Charlotte, my office would be littered with them from floor to ceiling!"

And then Tom just thought of it.

"Charlotte! She was helping with the paperwork! Maybe she put the insurance bill on hold and I approved it without looking at it! Sidney, your fiancee is truly a woman of genius!" And Tom kissed Sidney in a tight embrace. 

At that moment, champagne was brought into the study in glasses, and the family relaxed with relief, and the light sparkling bubbles took away with them pain, sadness, fear, uncertainty and despair. There was a better life ahead, full of love, hope, and complete trust.

___

Sidney was forced to go alone to see lady Denham. Tom, under the influence of the happy news, was particularly heavy on the champagne, which soon wore him out.

Sidney now stood alone in front of the Grand Dame of sanditon, and looking her straight in the eye, calmly stated the facts and handed her a cheque showing the amount owed to Her down to a penny. 

"Oh, Mr. Parker, I didn't doubt you! However, it took you a little more time than a week. But it's still almost a miracle. You are a very capable young man." She looked him up and down with approval. 

"Thank you, lady Denham. I am flattered by your high opinion of my abilities. However, I did it not for the sake of fame, but for the sake of my family. My brother is certainly confused, but he is a great inspiration for the city and without his particular vision, Sanditon's status as a seaside resort was out of the question. I'll help him rebuild the city, and we'll bring visitors back to Sanditon. The only question is, are you still ready to support the city?"

"Support? I'm an old woman! When the time comes to collect the fruits of the investment I am unlikely to be alive! What's the matter?" she squeaked, her shoulders slumping. Her whole old figure betrayed sadness and loneliness. 

"Maybe we can come up with something that will please you in a shorter time? How would you like one of the city's streets to be named after you?" Sidney suggested, realizing that at her age and position, she was particularly concerned about the legacy issue. 

"Denham Street?" she asked casually, but Sidney could see in her eyes that she was intrigued. "Why should I care? How many Denhams are there in England? Hundreds! Thousands!" she gushed and limped around the room. Then she stopped abruptly, and after a moment continued, "But if the street were named after Agatha Denham, then no one would doubt that I was the one who made an invaluable contribution to the development of Sanditon."

Sidney had a knowing smile on his lips. 

"We can arrange it, lady Denham! I found a curious project in my brother's plans, which involved the creation of a regular Park and rose garden in the Western part of the city. The creation of the park will undoubtedly shift the city center in a different direction and Trafalgar House will no longer be a central place. I think this is the reason why Tom refused to implement it at the time. But now that he truly appreciated the comfort of home and the family hearth, it seems quite a reasonable project, leading the city to development in the future. We can name not only the alley leading to the Park after you, but also the park itself and the rose garden."

Lady Denham was beaming.

"Mrs. Campion seems to be right about you. It's always nice to be married to a man who keeps his word."

"Thank you, lady Denham. But I'm afraid Mrs. Campion has nothing to do with it. We broke off our engagement a week ago by mutual consent."

To her surprise, he didn't look down or express regret. This man made her reconsider her beliefs over and over again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Parker. Mrs. Campion would be a good match for you."

"Lady Denham, I intend to marry for love. And I'm going to Willingden tomorrow to formally ask for miss Heywood's hand in marriage."

"Miss Heywood?" the older woman said, startled. "So I was right in predicting her passage to the church soon. Well, I'm happy for you, Mr. Parker! Charlotte is lively, outspoken and active and will be a great companion to anyone if you are willing to appreciate her intelligence and independence. She is definitely superior to Mrs. Campion in every way... except for the dowry. But if it doesn't bother you, then it will be a beautiful union."

"Thank you, lady Denham."

He thought the audience was over and was about to leave when she suddenly asked a question:

"Where do you plan to live, Mr. Parker?" 

In truth, he hadn't thought about it yet.

"First in London" he began hesitantly.

"Are you planning to build a house here in Sanditon?"

"Perhaps. You know, I have a plot of land near your property. But I think it is quite small for building a house and organizing a garden."

"I'll give you a piece of land next to yours, Mr. Parker. For the wedding. It will be a pleasure to have such young neighbors around" she added languidly as she approached Sidney, "And it will be a pleasure to have one of your girls named Agatha." 

She winked at him and walked out of the room, leaving Sidney completely baffled. Why are strangers so insistent on calling his future children by their names?

___

At a hastily arranged family dinner, Sidney returned with a check in his hand: Lady Denham was satisfied with the Parkers ' business acumen and did not withdraw her investment. And Sidney gave a brief summary of the conversation, as well as the agreement to name the city's alley and garden after Agatha Denham.

Tom could not sit still and rushed into the study, and after a while returned to the dining room with extensive plans for the rose garden and a firm intention to visit Mr. Stringer in the morning. 

The dinner was held in a warm family atmosphere, and the more candles burned, the more sincere the family's conversations became. And Sidney realized that it had been a long time since he and his siblings had simply sat down at the same table as Charlotte's family did. It's time to revive the old traditions of the Parkers and invent new ones. He smiled to himself and touched Charlotte's letter in his pocket. He was only a few hours away from meeting her. 

Sidney left early morning and arrived in Villingen in time for tea. He went into seclusion with her father, and produced proofs of the purity of his intentions. Mr. Heywood gave his expected consent, and the two men discussed financial matters. At the same time, Sidney did not hide from the future father-in-law changes in the situation of his family and assured that he could provide Charlotte with a decent life. 

After their conversation with their father, Sidney and Charlotte were given some time alone to observe the formalities of the engagement. And knowing the answer in advance, Sidney was calm and confident. Charlotte said Yes, and he touched her lips affectionately. 

During dinner, the family was announced the happy news and from all sides rained cheers, congratulations and hugs. It was only half an hour later that Sydney and Charlotte managed to escape the house for a walk. 

They walked over the hills to the leafy forest, Charlotte's favorite spot. Too close together, almost touching each other's hands, unaccompanied. 

"I was pleased to receive your messages, Charlotte. And I am glad that I now have the opportunity to answer them." Charlotte looked at him with a genuine smile. 

The conversation was light and easy. She told him how her days had been spent waiting for him to return. He told her all the exciting news: the repayment of the debt, the letter from the insurance company, lady Denham's action. But after a quick rundown of the news and many greetings from the Parkers, he moved on to a more important topic, how he missed her and how in every corner of Sanditon he remembered their story: the meeting, the look, the conversation, the cove…

They were almost in the woods when Mr. Brown appeared in their path. A quick glance at Charlotte told Sidney that this was the man. He reacted quickly and shielded her, hiding her behind his back and making it clear that he would not allow anyone to disturb his fiancee.

Mr. Brown, however, did not look at all belligerent this time. He crumpled his hat in confusion and tried uncertainly to address the couple.

"Sir, miss Heywood. I apologize for disturbing you. I owe you an apology for my behavior. I was drunk and that doesn't excuse me. I apologize to you, miss Heywood, and to you, sir, for misjudging the extent of your acquaintance. You were a stranger in these parts, sir, and you seemed to have turned the whole place upside down in one day. I thought miss Heywood was making a mistake and making a hasty decision. I didn't know you knew each other in the past… Be that as it may, I see your attitude towards each other and can only wish you happiness. I hope you'll forgive me one day, and we can be good neighbors again."

"Thank you, sir, for your wishes. As for good neighborly relations, the bride and I have not yet decided where we will live, but I am glad to meet you. Let me introduce myself, Sidney Parker."

At the word "bride," Mr. Brown gave Charlotte a distressed look, and Charlotte an enthusiastic look at Sidney – it was still so unusual to feel in this status, and even more so to hear it from his lips. 

"Walter Brown," the farmer said, holding out his hand. 

After saying good-bye to Mr. brown, Sidney and Charlotte turned into the woods. 

"So, Mr. Parker, what did you say about where we were going to live?"

"Sidney, please." He answered, turning to face her and pulling her to him by the waist. "And yes, my fiancee and I haven't discussed plans yet, right?" He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and searched her eyes. "Tell me what you want, Charlotte."

"Well, I'd marry you tomorrow, but you know that's impossible…"

"Well, in a week, then?" he asked playfully, rolling his eyes. 

"Sidney, be serious! You know very well that we can't get married before the church announcements are made!" snuggled in his arms, she was now straightening his tie and trying not to look at him. 

"All right, I'll take care of it. Where do you want to get married?"

"In Sanditon. I like the chapel at Sanditon" and she smiled sweetly. "But I'm worried about getting my family there. You've noticed that there are quite a few of us."

"Really? I didn't notice" he said Jokingly. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." 

"You're the best! Do you know?" she said, and put her hand on his heart rather boldly.

He covered her hand with his own and stood there for a moment in silence, looking into her eyes. And realizing that he was drowning in them, he hurried to change the subject in a constructive direction.

"So we're having the wedding at Sanditon. Where do you want to live?"

"Where you are!"

"Well, that makes some sense." He looked a little embarrassed. "I... I have a piece of land with a great view of the sea near Sanditon. Close to Lady Denham's estate, but not close enough for us to care. How would you like to build your home in Sanditon? Of course, this is not fast and we will have to settle in London for a while. Yes and choose an architect…"

"All I need is a house with a view of the sea and a great man." And she slid her hands behind his neck and looked rapturously into his eyes.

The response did not have to wait long. He smiled softly, pulled her around the waist, and sealed their Union with a gentle kiss. Not hiding, not hiding, as befits the bride and groom, and very soon - as husband and wife.

___

The rumpled white sheets didn't cool her body at all. It was insanely stuffy. I wanted to smoke. His skin was still damp with perspiration. Wonderful sex. 

He looked around, studying the unfamiliar first-class cabin, and the things scattered on the floor here and there. Women's stockings, underwear, soft pink silk dress, hastily discarded spencer… And next to it, his hastily discarded military uniform: bright red Dolman and mentik, blue trousers, crumpled underwear…

Trying not to wake the lady, he reached for his shirt and pulled it over his naked body. Then he got up, pulled on his trousers, and opened the window. 

Her partner stirred in the bed.

"Good morning," she whispered sleepily. 

"Good morning." He had completely forgotten her name. Passion flared up instantly yesterday. They met eyes on the deck and immediately understood everything about each other. He wasn't even sure if they'd introduced themselves properly before they'd arrived in her cabin. 

"What is your name, Madame?" he asked casually, plopping down in his clothes on the pillows next to her. 

"Eliza Campion"

"How small the world is..." Bering chuckled "So what are you doing on this ship?" 

"I'm going to Paris." And she rolled over on her side, propping her head on her hand and not at all embarrassed by her nakedness, which was only slightly covered by the blanket. "And you?"

"Alexander Bering, Russian hussar. I'm on vacation. And I'm leaving for Russia in a month."

"What do you plan to do?" Eliza asked idly. 

"In Europe? Relax, have fun, recover."

"Yes, I've seen your scars. It must be painful." And she rolled over on her back. 

"Ah" he waved his hand. "That was a long time ago. Tell me, what will you do in Paris?"

"Looking for a husband" and she looked at him defiantly and smiled. "Well, or prepare to find a husband. Dresses, stockings, fashion, everything…"

"Why would a woman like you want a husband?"

"I don't know. Society needs me to have a husband. And children need men's attention."

"Do you have children?"

"Yes, two. A son and a daughter. I thought I'd found a great father for them, but ... never mind." 

The conversation continued as Bering unpacked the ice queen's soul layer by layer. When it was time to leave, he simply gathered up his things, pulled on his boots,and kissed her hard on the lips. But a clinging hand clutched at him and whispered, " Stay."

"I can't. We're not going to make it. I'm not fit to be a husband. And I'll be back in the army in a month."

"It doesn't matter. Stay a while now. Stay for a month…"

And he stayed, watching the beautiful, lonely woman melt in his arms.

They spent 3 weeks together in Paris and said goodbye without tears or sentiment. And as she saw off his carriage, Eliza smiled that there had been brief moments of happiness in her life, too. No strings attached and no pretense. 

Happy, she enjoyed her sweet road romance, and chose the most fashionable dresses to charm London in season. And only a month later, she realized that her plans were not destined to come true and she would have to look for a husband many times faster.


End file.
